The Dragons of Raveana
by Copper Vixen
Summary: An ancestor of Harry's once protected the magical Mage Dragons, upon her death they vanished. Now in possession of her journal, can Harry summon them back or is he too late? SLASH,DMHP
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Prologue - Flight of the Dragons**

The sun was painting the ocean a fiery red. It's long fingers stretching across the rolling waters and falling upon the land. Her eyes rested on the animals basking in the fading light, their wings unfurled to catch the final rays of the day. Smiling lovingly, she glanced at the creature resting beside her, his head held elegantly as he watched over his clan. A twitch at the back of her mind had her stirring and looking regretfully at the boiling surf.

"It is time," she whispered. A pale hand was raised and run down the massive dragon's crest. His scales glittered a brilliant scarlet under the fading sun, small flecks of gold shining as he shifted. Folded wings rustled gently. "You must go now, love."

Her hand fell away and she turned slowly, pulling the hood of her cloak over her face. Cries and screams rose in the distance. She shuddered slightly as something slammed into the wards of her manor, a shiver running up her spine. "They come." Her murmur was carried away by the wind, the words carelessly discarded over the churning waters crashing urgently against the face of the cliff.

A strong wind rose and dragged at the cloak, yanking the concealing hood off. Grimacing as a lock of dark hair was pulled from its binding, she reached up and brushed at the strand. Sighing when it was quickly recaptured by the rush of air, she loosened the leather tie and let the wind have the rest. The earth rumbled beneath her but she continued on the path, feet carrying her towards the dark stoned manor.

She glided down the worn track calmly, eyes resting on the iron gate guarding the driveway. A small smile crept over her face as she noticed the figure standing within arms reach of the metal. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the glowing bow he held. She nodded politely, internally grinning as he sneered at her. Bowing her head, she locked her fingers in the material of her gown, concentrating on reinforcing the struggling wards. The silver skirt was tugged and pulled by the harsh wind, molding itself to her body as she plowed onward.

She had known they would come like she knew it was going to rain. Her wards crackled angrily, the magic fighting some unseen foe at the far edge of her land. Her eyes returned to her unwanted guest, watching quietly as he drew his wand and aimed it at the gates. Shaking her head, she laughed in delight when his spell failed to breach the carefully laid wards. She stalked gracefully over the gravel of the drive, well made boots hardly stirring the stone.

Placing a hand on the heavy stone railing that ran the side of the entrance stairs, she turned her head and paused silently. Green eyes locked on the second figure standing impatiently next to the first. For one moment, she felt the urge to take the offense. To attack brutally without thought of the consequences. The feeling faded, replaced by quiet resolve. She would die this night.

"Only for you, my king." She murmured, climbing the stairs and halting at the top. Turning, she arranged her dress and cloak before sitting down. She cast her eyes up at the slowly darkening sky, looking for the graceful forms that always seemed to float above her home at this time of night.

The quiet click of claws had her sighing, eyes remaining on the hunters gathering before her wards. She saw them tense as the small dragon slid from the shadows. Only the size of a small pony, the golden creature raised wings tipped with black and snarled at the sky. "You must leave, Esdra." Grumbling, the Sand Dragon lowered it's horned muzzle, bumping the object which rested hidden in a cloak pocket.

Brushing aside the beasts head, she pushed a hand into the pocket and pulled the small flute from its place. Caressing the silver, she grinned as the dragon cooed and flicked the end of its tail. "Once more but then you must go." Standing, she placed the cold metal to her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed at the first high note, cherishing the music. Cold fingers floated over the keys, each touch a loving caress.

She sniffed angrily as she felt a tear slide down her face. Brow crinkling in concentration, she allowed her fingers to fly freely over the metal. She relaxed slightly when a low rumble harmonized itself with her. The little gold crooning along in perfect synchrony. Her emerald eyes flew open as her wands screamed in warning, struggling under the assault of multiple attackers. Her lips were raised from the metal quickly, the flute vanishing back into its hiding place with practiced ease. Voices called and shouted somewhere beyond her vision.

"Go," she ordered, not bothering to look down at the dragon that stood beside her. In a crack of wings and a mourning screech, the animal hurtled into the air, riding the strong thermals higher and higher til she was lost among the clouds.

The figures at the gate had disappeared. She was not so naive as to believe they had left. They were there in the shadows waiting for the angry mob to breach her wards. To drag her to prison for murder or kill her. The decision would be theirs.

Her manor lay still and silent, no house elves or pet remaining within its strong walls. Even her stables had been emptied on command. The horses scattered across the countryside like leaves in the fall. An alarm screamed in warning, giving the signal she had been waiting for. Her wards had fallen, and before the end of the night, so would she.

Twitching the long silk skirts into place, she prowled easily down the steps. Her eyes scanned the shadows as she waved a hand behind her. The warding alarms fell quiet, leaving the countryside startlingly silent. Moving gracefully across the green lawn, she paused at the crack of dry wood. Her skirts swirled out behind her as she whipped around. Black hair was tossed thoughtlessly by the wind, the locks tangling ruthlessly. She stilled in an unnatural manner, freezing completely as an individual walked arrogantly towards her.

"You're a fool, Lady Raveana. To die for a bunch of beasts that can't even understand you." The wizard growled, his wand leveled at her chest.

Smiling, she drew her own wand and ran it through her fingers. "But I was a happy fool, Reginald." She said loudly, eyes wide as she glanced beyond his shoulder into the shadows. Her heart pounded in her ears as she caught the flicker of movement, felt the shifting around her as several people circled her.

Sneering at her, he flicked his wand and hissed a spell. The magic striking the shield she erected without thought. "Those damn beasts have made me what I am. Their blood and scales alone are worth thousands of galleons." He growled, pushing his own hair back as the wind grabbed at it.

"Someday you'll wish you had left the Mage Dragons alone, Reginald." Raveana promised, cloak billowing around her as the wind picked up. She tipped her head as the first drops of rain fell, pattering gently on the ground. She gasped at the sudden whistle of displaced air, the low hum of death approaching. Her head jerked back with the force of the blow, the arrow sliding silently home. Blinking, her fingers brushed the wooden shaft.

"You should have let me have them, Raveana." He murmured quietly, watching emotionless as she slid to her knees, one hand resting on the wood emerging from her chest.

A wolf called in the distance, the sound haunting as voices snapped and barked around her. Raveana slumped slowly, body tilting as she lost control of her quickly weakening muscles. Her eyes fluttered closed, the rain a gentle touch on her burning skin. She forced her emerald orbs open and looked past the figure standing over her. The sky was dark, lightening flickering and flashing angrily. Her lips curved as a flash outlined the large shapes hurtling over the water, wings pumping against the strong winds.

Once bright emeralds began to dim, the hand resting on the arrow's shaft falling lightly away. Sinking deeper, she felt a hand slide into her pocket and withdraw the silver flute. Fingers brushed her face, pushing dark locks away and resting on her cheek. "You should have listened to me, Potter." The words were whispered into the wind, barely audible.

"Someday you'll regret the death of every dragon you ever murdered, Malfoy." Raveana breathed her final words. As the last breath rattled in her lungs, a haunting melody began. Standing, Reginald Malfoy removed his cloak and draped it over the once proud witch. Turning, he glared over the water, cursing as the mournful cries faded. The Mage Dragons had gone.

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A/N: I'll remind everyone that this is merely a prologue. What didn't make sense will eventually be explained. Thanks for reading. 


	2. Music in the Night

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter One - Music in the Night**

The haunting melody drew Draco slowly down one of the dark halls of the Manor. Each note was full and perfectly rounded, the slow lament beckoning him onward. Two weeks ago his father had left to visit one of the families older estates, returning several days later with a large trunk. Since that night, the same seductive dirge could be heard whispering quietly around Malfoy Manor. His mother had claimed it was his father but she had been lying and he knew it. Lucius Malfoy played the flute clinically, with no feeling or thought to the music. The individual who played at night was a maestro. Every song was played to its fullest, each note ringing perfectly. Tonight was his last night to find the mystery player. Tomorrow he would be on his way to Hogwarts for his sixth year.

Pausing outside a closed door, he pressed his ear to the wood and shut his eyes. His body tensed as the music trailed off, silence settling on the hall only to be broken moments later by a sorrowful tune. His hands tightened on the flute he held, fingers floating over the keys as he kept time with the mystery musician. Sighing, he glanced down the hall before placing his hand on the knob. The door popped open with a faint click, swinging inwards slowly.

Peeking his head around the door, he searched the room but found it devoid of human life. Frowning, he stepped backwards and began to pull the door closed when a note pierced the shadowed room. Glancing back and forth down the halls, he slipped into the room and closed the door lightly. Blue eyes darted around the small room, taking in the Ever-Lasting candles glowing on a high table and the empty portrait hanging in the center of the left wall. The soft whisper of the flute called him onward, forcing his leaden feet to move towards the white sheet draped over the second wall. His fingers clenched on the cloth. Taking a deep breath, he tugged lightly. The fabric slid slowly down the wall, pooling at his feet.

A large portrait hung on the wall, it's gilded frame covered in centuries worth of dust. In the background, a dark sea tossed and churned. Waves rolling forward wearing white caps under a charcoal sky. In the center, a lone figure stood. The wind grabbed and tore at the black cloak she wore, leaving her mass of dark hair in tangles. In her hands she held a flute, the instrument singing sweetly as she played. He realized he'd been holding his breath and dragged air into his burning lungs, panting as the witch played on.

"Who are you?" Draco whispered, one hand smoothing the air above the picture. The raven haired witch continued to play the sorrowful melody, tears running down her cheeks. As if hearing him, she stopped playing, the last note reverberating around the room. Her eyes slid open slowly, ethereal emeralds glimmering as she stared at him. He shuddered when she frowned and tipped her head, flute slowly moving away from her mouth.

Frowning, the witch resumed her posture and played several notes, keen eyes watching him. Draco considered her before raising his own flute, carefully answering the challenge. His blond hair glowed golden in the candlelight as he played each note carefully. Offering him a sweet smile, she raised a hand and directed his attention to the object resting on the table.

Blinking, he swirled around and approached the table cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder, Draco pondered the familiar looking witch. Shaking his head at his confusion over her resemblance to Potter, he turned his attention to the object resting on the shadowed table. His hands slid over the long box. The wood was a bright cherry red traced through with dark lines. Engraved in the top was a dragon, it's twinkling eye crafted of sapphire. He glanced over his shoulder at the dark haired witch, feeling her eyes burning into his back.

Chewing his lip in thought, he flipped the clasps and opened the long box. Resting on a bed of burgundy was a silver flute. Draco set his own flute down on the table and reached inside the case, his fingers gliding lovingly over the cool metal. The silver was traced with small images, dragons rearing and roaring in battle. A tingle ran through the pale digits as they stroked the keys, hand jerking out of the box in response.

Looking again at the witch on the wall, he quirked one eyebrow. The witch remained quiet in her portrait, no longer paying him any attention. Her gaze was focused on the sea behind her, hands clenched in the folds of the gown she wore. The flute she had played was gone, no longer held carefully in her golden hands. Eyebrows drawn down, he lifted the instrument from its bed. Under the candles it glittered and shone, seducing him.

Glancing at the empty portrait on the other wall, he considered the instrument he held. No one would notice if he took it. His own flute was strangely similar. As if it had been copied from the instrument he now held. He narrowed his eyes when something flickered just below the mouthpiece. A twining D intertwined with an M. How utterly perfect he thought as he juggled the instruments, lying his own in the case.

Cradling the dragon flute in his hand, he closed the lid and moved to replace the curtain over the painting of the witch. Draco found his eyes captured and arrested by the startling green gaze once again. The witch watched him approach, a smile playing on her face as he scooped the white fabric up. With his eyes inches from those glowing orbs, he watched her lips move silently. Tensing, he tucked the cloth over the picture and stumbled away. Fleeing the room quietly, he heard the first strains of the flute rise again in the darkness of the manor.

* * *

The Burrow was a busy place at seven o'clock in the morning. Far to busy as far as Harry was concerned. Groaning, he settled his head onto his folded arms and closed his eyes. Around him, the bustle and chaos of the Weasleys kitchen carried on. Molly was cooking furiously as she asked her children question after question, ignoring the rolling eyes and flippant remarks.

Popping one eye open as the smell of bacon reached his nose, he considered the loaded plate resting just beyond his head. Moaning as his stomach growled, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his eyes. A fork appeared in his hand and he obligingly shoved it into the mountain of scrambled eggs.

"How is it, Harry?" Molly asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she glanced at the crowded table. With everyone contentedly eating, there was finally some peace in the little house.

Nodding, he finished his mouthful and reached for his glass of apple juice. "As good as always, Mrs. Weasley." He replied, grinning as Ron and Ginny both rolled their eyes at his polite response. Hermione smiled in agreement, bobbing her head as she nibbled delicately on a piece of bacon.

"Good. Now Arthur will be taking you all to King's Cross as soon as you're finished so I hope you all finished packing last night." The red haired woman reminded them, turning around and waving her wand to begin cleaning the kitchen. Humming under her breath, she swept from the room.

Seeing his mother leave, Ron snagged several more sausages from the dish in the center of the table and drenched them in syrup. "I can't believe it's time to go back already." He grumbled, practically drooling as he stabbed one of the dripping sausages.

"You finished packing, right Ron?" Hermione asked, lifting her napkin from her lap and setting it next to the plate as she rose. She raised an eyebrow at the redhead as his face flushed and he jerked his gaze away from hers. "I can't believe you didn't finish packing." She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation.

Harry sniggered at Ron's embarrassment, ignoring the sideways glare and the elbow digging into his side. Standing, he carried his plate to the sink and rinsed it off before turning and leaning against the counter. "Why does that surprise you, Hermione? You know you watched both of us unpack when we first arrived at Hogwarts last year." Harry reminded the bushy haired girl with a grin, winking at Ron.

Laughing, Hermione reached out and ruffled his already mussed hair. "Neither of you unpacked. You lived out of your trunks for the first three weeks. The only reason your trunk ever got emptied was because Dobby kept hanging all of your clean clothes up in the wardrobe."

Ron grinned and puffed his chest out. "We man," he grunted, slapping himself on the chest. Harry and him both dissolved into laughter at the disgusted looks on Hermione and Ginny's faces. Still shaking with laughter, Harry turned at the light clatter against the window above the sink. A brown owl sat on the sill, wings folded and letter clutched in its beak. Reaching up, he unhooked the window latch and let the bird flutter into the kitchen. Depositing the creamy envelope atop the stack of pancakes, the owl hooted and flew gracefully out the window in a whisper of wings.

"It's for you, Harry." Ginny said loudly, offering the letter to the raven-haired wizard. Nodding his thanks, Harry tucked the paper under his arm as he carefully fastened the window latch, assuring it was well locked before finally glancing at it.

Hermione peeked over his shoulder as he sat back down at the table, resting one hand on the back of the chair. "Gringotts." She murmured, stabbing the seal with a nail painted pale blue. Frowning in confusion, he slid a finger under the seal and popped it open. Shaking the folded paper out, he flipped it open and scanned its contents. Seeing the curious looks Ron and Ginny were wearing, he reconsidered and read it out loud.

_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_Earlier this week while cleaning and remodeling an older section of the underground vaults, a discovery was made. Several vaults previously believed destroyed due to tunnel collapse several centuries ago were uncovered. Among them was a vault belonging to someone of Potter lineage. While the records of the vault's original owner have been lost, a quick check has shown that the contents remain relatively unharmed. As the last member of the Potter family, the contents fall into your ownership. The vault has been secured for now but we kindly ask that you advise us on what you would like done with the contents. We await your decision and have included a list of the vaults contents so you may better determine what you would like done. _

_Sincerely,  
Gristle Gundrage,  
Secretary of Gringotts_

Harry handed the letter off to Hermione, knowing she'd want to reread it just for verification. Laying the other piece of parchment on the table, he allowed his eyes to travel down the short list.

_Contents of Vault 235_

_One Cherry wood long bow strung with Griffin tendon  
Two Dozen Arrows crafted of Ash, feathered by Ravens (all bearing the symbol of a dragon)  
One Blood -Sealed trunk  
One Blood-Sealed journal  
Five daggers crafted of Cold Iron  
Fourteen Portraits of Dragons  
One black leather saddle and matching bridle  
The Deed to Shirestra Castle  
2400 Galleons_

"Fourteen portraits of dragons?" Ron repeated with a raised eyebrow, leaning across the table and reading the list upside down. "Someone has a dangerous obsession."

Hermione cuffed the redhead lightly on the back of the head, folding the first letter and setting it next to the discarded envelope. "Imagine the history contained within that vault." She breathed, eyes glowing brightly in thought. "Lost for centuries and only just recovered."

Ginny nodded in agreement, wrapping her fingers around her glass of orange juice. "And the fact that you don't know who the original vault owner was. Witch or wizard? A scholar or a joker?" She murmured in thought, blushing when Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously.

"Ginny is right, Harry." Hermione said, straightening and walking around the table to stand behind Ron. "This could be the chance for you to learn something about your father's family."

Harry sighed and settled back into his chair, carefully sliding the list and the letter back into the envelope. Fiddling with the butter knife resting near his fingers, he ran his other hand across his scar in thought. "What does 'blood-sealed' mean?" He questioned softly, raising his gaze and glancing at Ron for an explanation.

"Blood, mate. It's like a password but better." Ron responded, folding his arms on the table. The sudden chiming of a clock had all four holding their breath as they counted each resonating dong. Exchanging horrified looks, they all pushed away from the table and raced to their rooms to do last minute packing. The letter was jammed carelessly into Harry's pocket as he grabbed drank the rest of his juice before racing up the stairs.

XxXxX

The Hogwarts Express rumbled down the tracks as rain plinked softly against the compartment windows. Yawning, Harry glanced across the small room at Ron and smiled. The redhead was sleeping with his face resting against the window, snoring quietly and mumbling under his breath every now and then. Pulling the crumpled parchment from his pocket, he sighed and tried to smooth it out.

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Hermione whispered, lying her book in her lap and staring unblinkingly at him. At his miserable nod, she shook her head and frowned. "Just because it was placed under blood-seal doesn't mean it's bad or evil. It just means that someone valued their privacy."

"I can't help but remember second year." Harry whispered, shooting the slumbering Ron a quick look. "What if I get this journal and it turns out to be a terrible repeat of Tom?"

Hermione offered him a wistful smile. Standing, she pulled her Hogwarts cloak on and ran a finger over the shining P glinting on the lapel. "You have just been given the chance to learn something about at least one member of your extended family. Who knows what mysteries that book holds. Just think about it, Harry." Smiling, she gave Ron quick peck on the cheek and patted Harry's knee as she left the private compartment.

Harry chewed his lip as he considered her words. He was truly curious and the chance to learn something about the Potter side of his family was a dream come true. Sighing, he shot a quick prayer up at the ceiling and rifled through his bag for a quill and some parchment. Writing quickly, he folded the letter and woke Hedwig. Hooting softly, the white owl accepted the letter and allowed him to toss her out the window.

Watching the bird climb into the sky bearing his decision, he smiled and rose. Straightening his clothes, he stretched before sliding the thin door open and stepping into the hall. Closing it softly, he looked back in and made sure Ron was still sleeping peacefully. Shaking his head in amusement, he walked down the small corridor in the direction of the bathroom.

The sudden tremble of the train had him stumbling and falling into someone emerging from one of the compartments. Apologizing profusely, he grabbed the individual's shoulders to help them regain balance and found himself staring into a pair of seething eyes.

"Watch it, Potter." Draco snarled, shoving recklessly past the Gryffindor. Harry winced as something sharp slammed into his hip as the blond trucked past. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he rubbed the injured area and stared at the long wooden box the blond was bearing.

"Mind yourself, Malfoy!" He bellowed, curling a lip as the Slytherin waved a hand over his shoulder in disregard. Muttering under his breath, Harry continued his trip and went to the bathroom. On his way back he stumbled into Dean and Seamus and joined them and several others in a game of Exploding Snap.

The sudden roar of the train's whistle had everyone scrambling to pack up their stuff as they neared the station. Calling goodbyes, Harry had to push against the flow to get back to his own compartment where a sulking Ron greeted him. Collecting their stuff and Hermione's, the pair climbed off the train and looked in the direction of the glowing castle. Their sixth year had just begun.

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read review. Everyone's thoughts and opinions are highly valued as I begin this fic with some trepidation.

NinjaoftheDarkess - Yes, it will eventually be slash, Draco/Harry as always.  
Moonlit Eyes - lol, I had to use oc's to establish the history or this fic would have been too confusing. You won't see any other new characters, except a DADA prof and the dragons.  
fourth-face-of-the-goddess - lol, Reginald's actions will be explained over the length of this fic, right now just remember Harry and Draco don't know anything about either Raveana or Reginald.  
Queen Caira - Friends and allies always  
Iredesent - The green eyes shall eventually be explained. lol, I'm always writing, right now I'm juggling three fics - not including Dying Flames.  
Lady Silverhawk - Right Now! This fic will be updated hopefully every Friday following my normal posting schedule.  
Sapphirephoenix - Raveana Potter, as I'll call her for now, was Harry's anscestor. She was protecting the dragons from Reginald Malfoy.


	3. The Stolen Flute

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Two -The Stolen Flute**

In the midst of a terrible thunderstorm, the students of Hogwarts returned. Screaming and shrieking in mock fear, they leapt from the carriages and raced into the castle. Shaking rain off their long black cloaks, they proceeded toward the Great Hall amongst friends and housemates. A trail of mud marked the passing of many booted feet, marring the stone floors that had been carefully polished and shone for the new school year.

Pausing just inside the door, Harry glanced over his shoulder and watched as the sky was painted gold for a very brief moment. Shivering, he raised a hand and brushed droplets of rain from his limp black hair. Muttering under his breath, he slid his cloak off and draped it over his arm before slogging after his friends.

Sitting down on the bench next to Ron, he winced as his wet pants squished loudly. The redhead next to him grinned devilishly and reached under the table to pull his shoes off. Smirking, he tipped the shoe over and watched as muddy water began to create a puddle beneath them.

"Terrible weather." Dean commented, wielding a butter knife against Seamus's fork in pretend battle. Grinning in amusement, the surrounding Gryffindors cheered the duelists on. Their laughter and cheers drew the unwanted attention of Professor Snape, who prowled closer at the clinking and ringing of metal on metal

"How amusing." He snarled, a wave of his wand sending the weapons floating into his waiting hand. "Detention, the pair of you." He purred, black eyes sweeping over the seething lions as they stared angrily up at him. Turning his back on them, he continued on his way to the Head Table, claiming his place and sitting down silently.

"I think they just beat our second year record." Ron mused, elbowing Harry and nodding at the pouting pair sitting unhappily across from them. Sighing and shaking his head shamefully, he rested a hand over his heart. "I honestly believed that record would stand long after we had left this place."

Plastering a mournful look on his face, Harry wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulder. "There's always next year." He consoled playfully, shaking his head and wiping away an imaginary tear. "Plenty of time to set some new ones this year as well. Most accumulated time spent in the hospital wing, longest detention ever received, most chocolate frogs eaten in five minutes, first person in the history of Hogwarts to have to have their stomach pumped for eating too much chocolate, and the list goes on."

Sniffing, Ron sat up and puffed his chest out. "You're absolutely right, Harry. It's to early to give up." He stated, one fist slamming the table in emphasis.

"The sorting will be starting soon." Hermione whispered, offering the wizards sitting around her a threatening look as their banter quickly escalated in volume. Leaning forward, she beckoned Harry closer. "Well?"

Smiling sheepishly, he nodded and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. "I sent Hedwig on the way here." He mumbled, shoving Ron playfully as the redhead elbowed him.

Squealing in excitement, Hermione sat back and clapped her hands. Her face was glowing with her eagerness over getting to study an ancient journal from Harry's family. "I hope it get's here soon." She whispered as Professor McGonagall led the first years forward for the sorting. Feet tapping the floor anxiously, she turned her attention to the sorting hat.

Ron raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to Harry. "What's she on about now?" He hissed in confusion, stopping to clap loudly as a young witch was placed in Gryffindor.

"You remember the letter I received earlier? Well I sent a reply requesting the journal be sent to me at once." Harry whispered back, hiding the fact he was talking by placing his elbows on the table and setting his face into his upturned palms. He watched Ron out of the corner of eye, waiting to see what the redhead thought of his actions.

Nodding, Ron grinned and slapped him on the back in a companionable way. "It's fine mate. As long as it doesn't start talking to you or making you do crazy stuff." He added as an afterthought.

The headmasters booming voice had everyone sitting up and watching him as he began the usual speech. Behind him, the stained glass windows were lit up at unexpected intervals. The lightening tracing fiery fingers across the sky. Thunder shook the castle on its foundation, making the panes of glass rattle in their frames. As always, the speech ran over the rules and guidelines of the castle. Informing everyone of the need for unity and friendship in the dark times that were upon them. Giving a final nod, he waved a hand and smiled as platters of food appeared on the trestle tables.

"You heard the man, Harry." Dean quipped, gesturing in the direction of the Slytherins with his spoon. "Go make nice with the snakes."

"I'll get right on that, Dean." Harry responded quickly, saluting the other wizard with his fork. "Right after I finish scrubbing every toilet in the castle." Laughing, the pair clicked their glasses of pumpkin juice together and joined in the conversations flowing around them. With the scrape of flatware on plates, friendships were renewed and summer tales told.

* * *

The Slytherin Common Room had emptied far too slowly in Draco's opinion. Snuggling deeper into his dark blue terrycloth robe, he ran a caressing hand over the box sitting on his lap. The wood was inky black, his name inscribed in silver across the lid. Sighing, he slid his slippered feet closer to the fire and wiggled his slowly warming toes. His fine pale hair had finally dried and been returned to its former glory, shining in the dancing light cast by the fires flames.

"It's not possible." Pansy snapped as she stalked into the room, shooting a killing glare over her shoulder at the dark haired wizard trailing after her. Rolling his eyes, Draco sat up and watched his friends approach him. His quirked eyebrow had the witch's face reddening as she tucked herself into a corner of the couch, pulling the emerald throw off the back and wrapping herself in it.

Huffing in annoyance, Blaise dropped into the chair across from the blond wizard. "It is too." He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms over the front of his red silk pajamas and sulking.

Shaking her head and snorting, Pansy began to braid her hair while staring into the fire. The absent movement of Draco's fingers drew her gaze to the box he cradled. "Are you going to play for us?" She drawled softly, tipping her head when his pale gaze snapped to hers. The distant look in his eyes told her that he hadn't been paying attention to the conversation occurring around him. "Your flute. Are you going to play?"

"I hadn't really planned on it." Draco muttered, one finger running back and forth along the wood. Glancing around the common room, he narrowed his eyes and peered into the shadows before sliding forward in his chair. A twitch of his fingers had both witch and wizard leaning forward nervously. Casting one last furtive look around, Draco cracked the lid on the box he held. Lying upon the bed of dark silk, a flute sat. Shining silver, it seemed to whisper to them. Telling silent tales of sweet music and past melodies.

Frowning, Blaise extended a hand to pick the instrument up. His roving fingers were slapped away and the box slammed closed. "I didn't say you could touch it." Draco hissed, a long fingered hand running atop the box as if to calm the instrument inside.

"Draco, we've both seen your flute before. I've even played it." Pansy said in confusion, brow drawn down as she peered at him. Tying the end of her braid off with a piece of ribbon, the witch rose from the couch and padded closer. Dropping to her knees at his slippered feet, she held her hands palm out and waited.

Draco froze as he looked down at his childhood friend. Reluctantly, he placed the box in her hands and sat back, fingers immediately interlocking as if to keep from snatching the case back. "Don't play it." He whispered, eyes anxiously glued on the box as the lid was flipped open and the instrument inside revealed again. "It's not exactly mine."

Raising his eyebrows, Blaise slipped off his chair and knelt beside Pansy. "What do you mean it's not yours?" He mumbled, eyes resting on the flute. He leaned closer and narrowed his eyes as Pansy carefully withdrew the instrument.

"I kind of took it from one of the rooms in the Manor." He muttered, ducking his head and cringing as Pansy and Blaise both jerked back. The flute was abandoned quickly, fingers pulled back and rubbed on silk clad thighs as they glared at Draco in horror.

"You took this from the Manor! You don't even know what it does and you took it?!" Pansy yelped, her voice rising dangerously with every word. Shaking her head furiously, she rose and set her hands on the arms of the chair Draco occupied. "This flute could be some dark artifact and you just picked it up and waltzed out of the Manor with it! What the hell were you thinking? Your father is going to kill you!" She shrieked, straightening and planting her hands on her hips. Still shaking her head in denial, she began to pace back and forth. Sinking her hands into her hair, she groaned and looked at the vaulted ceiling as if seeking divine intervention.

"It's really not that bad, Pansy." Blaise soothed, holding his hands up in a calming manner. Picking the flute case up between four fingers, he deposited it on a nearby coffee table then sat down on the floor. "Lucius probably hasn't even noticed it's missing. We'll just return it and everything will be fine."

"No." Draco growled as he stood up. Prowling forward, he scooped the box up and held it to his chest. Turning his burning eyes on the startled pair, he tapped one foot. "I found it and I'm keeping it. Besides, she wanted me to have it." He explained, face reddening in anger.

"You are not keeping that thing!" Pansy shrilled, one finger leveling at the box he held. Shaking her head, she continued to pace, muttering under her breath as she aimed a kick at the leg of the coffee table. "We have to take it back."

"Who wanted you to have it?" Blaise asked in confusion, chewing on his lower lip as he glanced back and forth between the pair. Raising a hand, he scratched the back of his head as he rose fluidly. "Let's discuss this rationally, like adults." Turning he moved to one of the study tables and sat down, pulling the chairs out on either side of him and patting the seats.

Pansy walked forward and sat down primly, slamming her elbows on the desk as soon as her bottom touched wood. "I don't think he should keep it." She grumbled, dropping her head into her cupped palms.

"Well I am." Draco stated loudly, stomping forward and sitting down gracefully. The box was set on the table before him, one hand resting atop it. His narrowed eyes were locked on Pansy, the fingers of his other hand clenched into a fist.

"Just explain everything to us, Draco." Blaise rebuked, placing his own hands palm down on the table. He tipped his head and nudged Pansy with his toe under the table when she grunted in disgust.

Sighing, Draco sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I kept hearing music at night. It was the saddest melody I'd ever heard." He reminisced, blue eyes glowing as he remembered. "So I followed it to this little room on the fourth floor. On the wall there was a white sheet draped over a portrait. When I pulled it down, there was this witch standing there playing a flute. She had hair as black as Potter's and her eyes were green."

"Why does your father have a portrait of a Potter hanging in his house?" Pansy asked, leaning forward in interest.

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco tossed his short hair and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe that's how he get's o-" He began; only to have his sentence cut off as Blaise yelped and slammed his knee into the underside of the table.

"Pansy!" The dark haired wizard groaned, sliding his chair back and leaning over his aching knee. Rubbing at the injury in hopes of lessening the pain, he narrowed his eyes at the witch. "What the hell was that for?"

Cringing, the blonde witch reached over and gave Blaise a consoling pat on the thigh. "I was aiming for Draco." She said between her teeth, glaring at the other wizard as if blaming him for her boyfriend's injury.

"Anyway, she played some little ditty and I played it back then she pointed me towards the table where I found this." Draco finished, tapping the box with a light hand. Sliding a hand over the latch, he flipped it open and dipped a hand under the instrument. His fingers glided along the small images tracing the metal, halting at the twining letters. "It has my initials on it." He pointed out, as if that would gain Pansy's acceptance.

Stilling, Blaise blinked before tipping his head. "You took it because it had your initials on it?" He repeated in disbelief, shrugging out from under Pansy's hands. Leaning over the table, he examined the engraved letters. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't stand for Draco Malfoy." He muttered dryly, reaching out and turning the instrument over so he could peer at the underside. Tiny dragons were posed along the metal. A pair were battling, their jaws opened in mid snap. Several others were flying, wings held in different positions. The carefully designed keys took his breath away. Dragon heads all with different markings and if one stared hard enough they could see the faintest shimmer of colour on their scales.

It was Pansy who broke the moment, fingers lightly caressing one of the keys. "This dragon." She murmured quietly, finger tapping the air above its gaping jaws. "It's an Egyptian Sandtongue. They're extinct. I don't think you should play this flute, Draco."

"Let's all just go to bed for now." Blaise mumbled, placing the flute back in the case and closing the lid. Pushing it closer to Draco, he shook his head as the blond's possessive hands wrapped around the wood. "I agree with Pansy, don't play that flute until we figure out what it does."

Rolling his eyes, Draco plodded towards his room. Waving a hand over his shoulder in silent farewell, he snuggled the box closer to his chest. He was going to play the flute the first chance he got and nothing was going to stop him.

* * *

Harry traipsed into the sixth year dorm quietly, his clothes had dried stiffly and he was itchy all over. Grimacing as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor, he opened his trunk and dug through its contents. Tugging the small bag free that held his bathroom supplies, he plodded into the bathroom and got ready for bed. In the middle of brushing his teeth, he was joined by his dorm mates. All of them grumpily jockeying for a position in front of the mirrors.

Grumbling, the lot of them all paraded back into the dorm and claimed their beds. Harry opened the window above his desk and inhaled the night air, jerking back when a ball of white hurtled towards him. Scrambling out of the way, he allowed Hedwig to land on his desk, scattering papers and quills with the powerful strokes of her wings. Chuckling at his own fear, he slid the desk drawer open and pulled an old bag of owl treats free. He placed a handful on the desk at her taloned feet before carefully releasing the twine holding the narrow parcel to her leg.

He climbed into bed and drew the curtains closed, the distant rumble of thunder resonating through the night. Whispering Lumos, he set his wand aside and began to unwrap the package. Snapping the twine, he ran his tongue nervously over his lips as the small journal slid into his lap. Harry balled the paper up and dropped it over the side of his bed, hands shaking as they ran over the cover of the journal.

Closing his eyes, he set his hands and pulled. Emerald orbs popped open in shock when the book remained closed. Prying on the front, he gritted his teeth and glared at the cream coloured leather. It wouldn't open. Shaking his head in disbelief, he trailed a finger over the accented R gracing the cover. He supposed he'd just have to wait for Ron and Hermione to tell him how to open it. Sighing, he gave one last attempt before tucking it under his pillow and extinguishing his wands light. Curling up, he fell asleep with one hand resting on the journal.

XxXxX

It was dark out. The full moon floating overhead casting long shadows across the rutted road she rode down. The horse beneath her skittered nervously, ears pressed tight to his skull. In the distance, a flash of silver drew her eye. A brisk wind grabbed at her cloak and sent long dark hair swirling out in front of her. Shifting nervously in the saddle, she slid a hand down to where her wand was sheathed. The familiar press of wood had her urging the horse forward, ignoring the wind that grew stronger with every gust. In the distance a castle glowed softly, one of the towers seeming to move as she cantered steadily closer.

The sudden glint of metal before her was followed by the stallions pained squeal, he stumbled onward for a few steps before he sank to his knees. Pitching forward, she found herself pinned under the struggling animal. Gasping for breath, she dragged her arm from beneath his neck and waved her wand.

The limp stallion gave one last kick before stilling, the arrow buried in his chest pale in the moonlight. Levitating the dead weight, she rolled away and found herself on her knees, staring down at the dead horse. Her eyes rested on the arrow jutting from her mounts wide chest, the white wolf flashing fangs at her in a silent laugh. "Malfoy!" The name was hissed into the darkness angrily as blackness settled over her.

XxXxX

Harry sat up with a gasp, shaking as he peered anxiously around him. Finding himself safe within the dorms at Hogwarts, he glared down at the journal he clutched to his chest. Hands shaking slightly, he climbed from the bed and looked out into the night. Seeing nothing, he walked quietly to the end of his bed and opened his trunk. The journal was tossed recklessly into the melee and the lid slammed shut.

Placing a locking spell on the trunk, he got back into bed and lay down. Running a hand over his scar, he frowned in confusion when he found it cool to the touch. If not Voldemort, then who? Staring up into the darkness of his canopy, he waited for sleep to once again settle upon him.

* * *

Draco sat up with a gasp in his private room, the hiss of hatred that was his last name reverberating through his ears. Wiping the sweat off his face with a shaking hand, he glanced at the flute case half buried under his pillow. Narrowing his eyes, he slid it out and opened the lid slowly. The flute lay innocent in its silver coated perfection; the dying flames of the fire making it seem copper in places. Shaking his head ruefully, he closed the lid and settled back down. The wooden box pushed back under his pillow without thought. Staring at the canopy, he shivered at the memory of the dream. The Malfoy family hadn't used the white wolf in centuries. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to drift, pressing the images from the dream away in hopes of getting another few hours of sleep. Still, the fanged smile haunted him for the rest of the night.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

Iredesent - lol, so many questions and ideas! The contents of the vault may or may not come into play and the DM shall be explained later.  
fragonknight01 - You're kinda close but still kinda far away. lol, hang onto your plot bunny cause you'll find its probably quite different from the way this story is going to unravel.  
violet7ameythst - Eventually, but remember Draco dosen't know about Raveana or the dragons.  
SaphirePhoenix - Maybe as revenge against Reginald? He kept the flute locked away unplayed for so long, maybe she just wants to hear her flute call again? Maybe she's setting Draco up for a painful death? Can't tell you cause it would ruin the plot.  
FairyQilan - lol, another nightowl? I'm the same way, up reading and writing into the wee hours of the morning. Glad you're enjoying the fic so far.  
The Earth Mystic - When one really thinks about it, the feelings between the Malfoys and Potters is never really revealed, nor is the way they became rich. I found a way to work both into my story.


	4. Explaining Dreams

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

Chapter Three - Explaining Dreams

It was the first day of class for the students at Hogwarts. In the Great Hall, House tables were packed with chattering students, all clutching their schedules and exclaiming over their classes. Excitement was not evident on the faces of all however. The older students shook their heads at the good cheer and sighed over the start of another year of tomes and tests.

Harry was slumped over Gryffindor table, his eyes shadowed as he stared glumly into his bowl of cereal. The red and black robes he wore were scrunched and wrinkled, appearing as if he'd slept in them. He straightened when Hermione and Ron sat down across from him, both staring at him with wide eyes.

"You're up early." Hermione murmured with an arched eyebrow, glancing down at his bowl and nodding in approval at the healthy contents.

"Are you sick, mate?" Ron asked, leaning forward and pressing his damp palm against Harry's forehead. He managed to trail his long sleeve through the butter, the slick cloth slapping the raven-haired wizard in the face.

Pushing the redhead's hand away from his face, Harry grabbed a napkin and mopped the butter off his nose. Shoving his bowl aside, he leaned forward and beckoned his friends closer. Tossing a quick look around, he found only Malfoy's blue eyes glaring at him and flipped the blond off before turning back to look at the pair. "I had a dream last night. A strange one. I woke up holding that damn journal to my chest like it was some sort of teddy bear." He whispered loudly, continuing when he saw the interest on Hermione's face. "A witch was riding a horse towards this castle and then an arrow slammed into the horses chest and they fell."

"An arrow?" Hermione muttered in confusion, pulling the pitcher of juice closer and pouring some into a cup. "Why an arrow? Why wouldn't they use magic?" She asked, shaking her head to show she didn't understand.

"There was a white wolf on it and when she saw it, she whispered Malfoy then passed out." Harry explained, his confusion as great as Hermione's. The witch had been an easy target atop the tall horse, any spell could have struck her without much effort.

Ron snorted at the word Malfoy, shaking his head as he stirred the remaining milk in his bowl while contemplating the selection of cereals spread across the table. "The Malfoy's haven't used a white wolf in centuries." He ground out, snatching a box of cereal that contained marshmallows and dumping some into his bowl.

"Perhaps they didn't want to kill her." Hermione mumbled thoughtfully, glancing at Harry and seeing him nod in agreement. "It was a warning." She whispered, eyes wide in understanding.

Harry nodded again and fiddled with his spoon. "I don't think we should open that journal." He whispered, ignoring Hermione's whimper of denial.

"The Malfoy's have been killing people for ages, Harry." Ron stated loudly, glancing over the raven-haired wizards shoulder and internally smiling as Draco Malfoy made a rude hand gesture at him. Glancing at Hermione to make sure she wasn't watching him, he answered Malfoy's unspoken challenge, his fingers flicking in a gesture that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap. "Don't let that put you off learning more about your family."

"He's right, Harry. This journal could tell you so much, please open it." Hermione said quietly, a hopeful look on her face. "Just because you had a strange dream doesn't mean the journal is responsible. Dreams are just our minds trying to make sense of stuff we learned over the day; just rubbish."

Shaking his head, Harry rose and climbed over the bench. "I have to get my books for first class." He muttered, giving the silent pair a wave before heading towards the exit. Feeling the slick butter on his sleeve, he rolled his eyes and decided he should probably change his robe while he was collecting his books.

* * *

"Bloody Potter!" Draco hissed, ignoring the amused looks Blaise and Pansy shot him. "He just flipped me off!" Snarling in anger, he dropped his spoon and crossed his arms over his chest in anger.

"Are you going to tell us about your dream?" Blaise asked, sipping calmly at his coffee while turning the pages of the Daily Prophet.

"A black haired witch was riding a horse down a dark path. There was a glimmer of silver then the horse fell and she got caught under him. When she managed to levitate his body off, you could see the arrow jutting out of his chest. It had a white wolf on it and she recognized it." Draco said quietly, narrowed eyes locked on the whispered huddle occurring at the Gryffindor table.

"The Malfoy wolf?" Pansy asked softly, her fork scratching along her plate as she looked up. She exchanged a look with Blaise before shaking her head. "That hasn't been used since your great-great-great-"

"We all know Pansy, Reginald Malfoy was the last member of my family to use the wolf." Draco said, not bothering to apologize for cutting her off in mid sentence. Raising a hand to his blond hair, he slid careful fingers through the styled locks while glaring at Weasley. "I think it was the witch from the painting."

"We don't dream in colour, Draco, we only think we do. Maybe you've become infatuated with Potter and subconsciously put black hair on her." Pansy mused, her eyes shining brightly as she stared at him in thought.

"That's disturbing, Pansy." Draco muttered waspishly, making a rude gesture at the Weasel and smiling in delight at the response he received.

"Well they're your dreams." The blond witch snapped, turning her attention to the schedule Professor Snape had handed her moments ago. Making a face at the top of the witch's head, Draco watched Potter walk out of the hall.

Shaking his head at Draco's antics, Blaise made a hand motion to get the attention of the other pair. "After class I'm going to go to the library and see if I can find anything on that flute. You're both welcome to join me." The dark haired wizard added, rolling his eyes when neither Pansy nor Draco said anything.

"We have Potions in ten minutes." Pansy murmured, watching as both wizards finally glanced at their schedules in distaste. Sighing, she rose and grabbed her bag. "Coming?"

"Unfortunately." Blaise growled, folding his newspaper and stepping over the bench. He swatted Draco in the back of the head with the paper and watched as the blond rose gracefully. Side by side, the three Slyhterins headed off to class.

* * *

Harry slid further down in his chair as Snape's cold gaze passed over him. Sighing in relief, he glanced at Hermione's book before opening his text to the same page. His movements were fluid and careful, his eyes resting on the Potion Masters back as he wrote something on the board. Rather then rifle through his bag for his inkpot, he nudged Ron and made a motion with his quill. The redhead stared at him blankly before widening his blue eyes and shifting the inkpot so Harry could reach it.

"If I wanted to strengthen the affect's of the Mourning Elixir without changing the base ingredients or giving multiple doses, what would I do?" Professor Snape asked, his robes trailing after him as he glided down the center aisle between the Slytherins and Gryffindors. His hands were folded behind his back as his eyes searched over the class. Harry tensed as Snape stared at him for a moment, black eyes freezing him in place. "Mister Malfoy, if you would care to enlighten the rest of this pitiful group, please feel free."

Harry broke the gaze and glanced down, rolling his eyes as Draco responded arrogantly. "You would use the blood of a Mage Dragon, sir."

"Five points to Slytherin. Why would you use Mage blood rather then that of a normal dragon?" Snape pressed, prowling silently down the side of the room farthest from the Gryffindors, his attention focused solely on the Slytherins.

Hermione's hand shot into the air, soliciting sighs from both Harry and Ron as the older wizard's gaze shifted to the waving appendage. Curling a lip, Snape stopped at the front of the room, hands resting on his hips as he searched the class for anyone else willing to answer. "Granger?" He growled through gritted teeth after concluding his vain search.

Hermione sighed and dropped her hand, folding her arms before her as she leaned forward. "The blood from a Mage Dragon is more powerful and potent then the blood of any other creature. It was once believed they had enough raw magic running through their veins to destroy the entire world." She stopped there, eyes saddening as she glanced down at the back of her hands. "The Ministry of Magic was afraid of what the Mage Dragons were capable of so they removed any laws that may have protected the species. That is the reason the Mage Dragon no longer exists."

Snape nodded slowly, shoulder length hair shifting against his face. "Five points to Gryffindor," He allowed, ignoring the hisses of outrage that rose from his house. " The Mage Dragon was hunted to extinction approximately five hundred years ago. Because of this, Mage blood and scales are both rare and expensive."

Harry shifted in his seat as Snape waved his wand at the board; the instructions and ingredients list appearing on the black surface. Around him, his classmates began to work as he stared into space. "Hermione, why is this the first time I've heard about Mage Dragons?" He asked swivelling in his seat when a shadow fell over him.

"This is Potions, Potter. Not Care of Magical Creatures, I suggest you begin brewing if you wish to finish before the end of class." Snape growled, attention already shifting to Neville Longbottom. In a swish of black silk, the Potions Master prowled away.

"Harry, the type of dragons Snape was talking about are gone. They're extinct." Hermione explained, rolling her eyes as Harry waved the statement away. "Let's talk about it later."

"Fine." Harry allowed, rising and moving to stand next to Ron at the supply cupboard. Sighing, he leaned against the door as Ron piled everything they needed into his waiting arms. Potions class was going to drag by at this rate, he thought, gaze wandering over the Slytherins. Trudging obediently back to the desk where Hermione waited, he laid the ingredients out in order. Collapsing into the chair next to the bubbling cauldron, he began to write the instructions from the board down while listening to the bushy haired witch order the redhead around. Sighing, he slumped down in the chair and stared at the warming sludge. He really hated Potions.

* * *

Blaise stalked back into the Slytherin Common Room after spending two hours tediously searching the shelves of the library. His dark hair was mussed from the constant tug of his fingers, tie swinging at half-mast as he flopped into the chair across from Pansy. Groaning, he settled back against the soft fabric and closed his eyes.

"Well?" Pansy asked quietly, eyes intent on the task she was performing. With careful precision, she dipped the small brush into the little bottle and began to paint the nail of her index finger. Wiggling the digit, she smirked as the emerald glitter in the polish flashed.

"Well?" Blaise huffed, opening his eyes and glaring at the witch. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair he sat in, fingers curling against the black cloth. "I spend two hours in the library and all you have to say is 'well'?" Shaking his head in disbelief, he slid backwards and thumped his well-shod feet onto the table resting between them.

Pansy shot Blaise a warning look when the bottle of nail polish jumped dangerously. Rolling her eyes at his show of temper, she firmed her lips before moving on to the next nail. Clucking her tongue at his continued silence, she slid the brush back into the bottle and fluttered her hands before her. "How was your most boring and diligent search, luv?" She questioned, dragging her words out slowly to tease him.

"Do you know how many enchanted musical instruments there are?" Blaise countered, hands rubbing over his face in exasperation. Massaging his temples, he glared angrily at the blonde witch.

Pansy arched a fine eyebrow, and tipped her head. "A lot?" She ventured, a smile curving her lips at Blaise's snort of affirmation.

"Thousands. Not to mention the quality of the books in the school library seems to have declined over the summer. There were only three books that could have been useful in the library and two of them are in the restricted section." Blaise stated calmly, sliding a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a small piece of parchment. Flipping it open, he peered at his neat writing before handing it to Pansy.

"Ten Thousand Flutes and their Founders?" Pansy whispered out loud, narrowing her eyes as she read his small writing. Frowning, she lowered the paper and traced a shining nail across the print. "Flutes to be Feared. Do you think its possible to order these?"

Blaise shook his head and accepted the slip of parchment back. "Finding a copy of the second one will be next to impossible and the first won't be sold to anyone under the age of nineteen." Sighing, Blaise sat back and sank into deep thought, ignoring the humming witch next to him.

Seeing his eyes lose their bright shimmer, Pansy shook her head and glanced down at her bare toes before shrugging her shoulders. Opening the small bottle she went back to painting her nails with long strokes. Chewing her lip as she noticed a small spot of green on the top of her foot, she leaned forward to investigate.

"Pansy!" Blaise barked, rolling his eyes when the blonde jumped in fright. "Where is Draco?" He questioned slowly, eyes locked on hers.

Glaring, Pansy tossed her hair over her shoulder and curled a lip. "He's out." She responded sharply, orbs narrowing at the sudden widening of the wizard's eyes.

"What's he doing?" Blaise asked anxiously, remembering the calculating look in the blue eyes when he'd told the other wizard he shouldn't play the flute.

"How the hell should I know? He's probably off harassing Hufflepuffs or threatening war with the Gryffindors." Pansy replied calmly, one finger rubbing at the speck of green. Shaking her head, she returned to painting her toenails. She hissed in anger when Blaise almost kicked her nail polish over with the heel of his boot. Eyes spitting fire at his quickly disappearing back, she muttered several choice curses. Smiling at her completed left foot, she had just begun the right when Blaise came tearing back into the room.

"I can't find the flute." He gasped out in a distraught voice, eyes wide with panic. His gaze darted around the room before resting on the wooden box tucked under Pansy's elbow. "You have it?" He muttered rhetorically, snatching the box and dragging it from under the witch's elbow.

Pansy screeched as she trailed emerald glitter across several of her toes. Tossing the brush down in anger, she began to wipe the mess away frantically. "Like I'd let him walk out of here with it." She snapped angrily, rubbing at the green stain lingering on her foot.

Blaise caressed the wood before raising an eyebrow, giving it a light shake he frowned at the silence. Flipping it open, he closed his eyes and groaned. The box was empty. "Did you actually look in the box before he left?" He rasped, staring down at her bent head. Seeing the shake of her blond head, he dropped the open case on the table. The sound was loud in the quiet room, turning heads and startling gasps from several individuals. Wheeling around, he fled the room in search of Draco, Pansy's exclaimed oops echoing down the hall behind him.

* * *

In the Gryffindor sixth year boy's dorm, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all gathered. Ron was sprawled across his bed, arms folded under his head as he stared at Harry. The raven-haired wizard sat atop his desk, legs folded comfortably. In his hands he held the cream coloured journal, one finger brushing the material absently. Frowning, he passed it to Hermione and watched as she held it reverently, her fingers running over the R embedded in the front.

"Her name must start with an R." She whispered excitedly, flipping the book over and stroking the back. She cooed at the scrolling and etchings marking the corners of the journal, turning it over and running a finger along the spine. Narrowing her eyes, she peered at several scuffmarks marring the creamy perfection.

"How do you know it's a her?" Ron demanded, slightly affronted by her assumption.

Snorting, Hermione shook her head in disgust and held the book out to the wizard sitting on the hard desk. "Does this look like something a man would write his secrets down in?" She stated quietly, a finger brushing at one of the small leaves curling in the corner of the leather. Rolling her eyes at his grunt of acceptance, she offered Harry a small smile. "Open it." She encouraged, fingers gesturing him on.

"Maybe I shouldn't, Hermione." Harry murmured, tracing the R with the edge of his thumb. Sighing, he set it down on the desk next to him and leaned back on his hands. "What about the dream? If that was with the journal closed, what will happen if I open it? We don't know who this person is, they could be evil for all we know."

Shaking her head again, Hermione stood and reached over to grab the journal. She pressed the thin book into Harry's hands, ignoring the slight hesitation before the fingers closed tightly around the creamy leather. "Memories can be imprinted on objects, Harry. If an object is with someone when something traumatic occurs, the residual fear from the event is dispersed through use. Say your dream was real, the witch most likely found having her horse killed right under scary and rather then forget, the memory was placed into the journal." The bushy haired witch explained, sitting back down and tucking her legs beneath her. Her hands waved lightly as she tried to explain the entire concept to the pair of wizards. "Just because a small bit of magic went into weaving the memory into the journal doesn't mean it holds anything evil. Memories are imprinted all the time, we just don't realize it's happening."

Harry nodded slowly, shaggy hair flopping slightly with the motion of his head. His hands tensed nervously on the journal for a moment before he sighed and gave Hermione a small smile. "Show me how to open this stupid thing." He mumbled, tugging lightly on the front and back to demonstrate its unwillingness to open.

Hermione gave a soft chuckle of relief, lifting the book from his yanking hands before it could be damaged. Her eyes began a careful sweep of the creamy cover, searching for a spot that might be stained or more deeply engraved. "Here," she whispered several minutes later, one finger hovering above a point in the scrolling. Between the twisting and twining lines, a small flower seemed to bloom on a vine. "Give me your hand."

"Is this going to hurt?" Harry asked, holding his hand out to the witch. He tried to pull back when she didn't answer but found his hand held tightly in one of hers. His finger was pressed to the leather flower quickly, a sharp stab of pain causing him to yelp and tug futilely. All three leaned closer as Hermione finally let his wrist go, watching as the bloody flower glowed softly for a moment.

"Now try." Hermione murmured, handing the small journal back to Harry and leaning forward. Her hands clutched the material of her robes as she waited impatiently for the raven-haired wizard to open the long lost journal. Mouth watering over the possibilities contained within the small book, she almost screamed at Harry to just get it over with and open it.

Harry, slid the tip of his finger into his mouth and mumbled his displeasure around the injured digit. Ignoring Hermione's whisper of 'wimp', he held the book up before him and tugged. With a loud click and a flash of gold, the journal popped open. He stared at it blankly for several seconds before frowning.

"Well, what does it say?" Hermione hissed, eyes wide as she stared at the back of the journal. Her fingers itched to tear it from his grasp so she could see the words written within it.

"There's nothing to read." Harry whispered dryly, staring down at the page he'd flipped the book open too. His eyes floated over the parchment in disbelief before he peered over the cover to meet Hermione's flustered eyes. Smiling slightly, he dropped the book backward in his hands so both Ron and Hermione could see what he meant.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!

NinjaoftheDarkness - Unfortunately it will take them a while to figure it out.  
The Earth Mystic - lol, pocket-sized Draco! The boy's shared a dream brought on by the fact they both held artifacts of Raveana's.  
FairyQilan - With Harry's knowledge of possessed books, one would think he'd know better then to fool around with it. However, if Dumbledore took the book we wouldn't be able to have as much fun as we're going too.  
firedragon - luver - Glad you like it. Dragon is definitely the first word but the second was wrong. It's a three-letter word, if you'd like to continue guessing?  
keeper of most knowledge - lol, yep the dreams were due to artifacts.


	5. A Musical Night

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Four - A Musical Night**

Glancing at his wristwatch, Blaise huffed in annoyance and lengthened his strides. Searching the dungeons was pointless; Draco would never be so stupid as to stay within Slytherin territory while doing something against his friend's wishes. The blond's fascination with the flute was becoming worrying.

Grimacing in distaste, the dark-haired wizard loped up the stairs leading to the main floor and paused. Students looked at him as they passed, giving the lone Slytherin a wider berth then he probably deserved. Curling a lip at several Hufflepuffs, he continued his hunt. The main corridor was crowded, students of the various houses brushing elbows as they spoke to friends and arranged study schedules. A flash of green and silver had him crossing his fingers as he peered into an alcove.

"Do you mind?" Theodore Nott growled, raising his mouth from the lips of the Ravenclaw he'd been kissing. Quirking an eyebrow at the angered look on Blaise's face, he ignored the whimper emitted by the witch and shuffled back from her slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen Draco?" Blaise demanded, shooting a quick look at the red-faced witch. A loud whoop from down the hall had his body freezing. He looked over his shoulder and let his eyes follow the path of the small group of overly rambunctious Gryffindors, noting the direction they took so he might avoid them in the future.

"Not since Pansy yelled at him in the Common Room earlier." Theo replied casually, arms still wrapped around his witch's waist. The Ravenclaw struggled in his grip, embarrassed to have been caught snogging a Slytherin.

Groaning, Blaise stepped out of the alcove and looked around. "If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him." He muttered, sliding a hand into his pocket and checking for his wand. Fingers closing around the cool wood, he withdrew it and slid it up his sleeve. Taking one step, he stopped and glanced back at his fellow Slytherin. "By the way, Theo, I really think you can do better."

The other wizard's bark of laughter followed him down the hall, as did the witch's disgruntled yelp. Smirking at the chaos he'd probably created between the pair, he tossed a quick look into an empty classroom. Draco could literally be anywhere. Hogwarts was massive and there were many small rooms that the blond might have chosen to hide in.

Miss Norris slunk from the shadows and hissed angrily before him, long tail lashing as she narrowed her bright eyes. Blaise narrowed his own eyes and hissed at the threatening feline; curfew wasn't for another few hours. Gliding around the growling cat, he pointed a finger at her and mouthed two words, flicking his finger as if it were a wand. The cat gave one threatening hiss before vanishing back into the shadows. Peering into yet another classroom, Blaise wondered if he'd ever find the missing wizard. Arguing voices turned his head. Chewing his lip, he trotted quietly down the hall before ducking behind a stone statue.

Six students plodded by slowly, joking as they waved their brooms around, obviously miming out some incident that had occurred while they'd been playing. Their red and gold robes warned him to hold his position, to wait until they'd disappeared before beginning his seemingly hopeless quest.

"Bloody Gryffindorks." He muttered, stepping from behind the statute and brushing at his robes. The faint whisper of music had him stilling and tipping his head. "I've got you!" He mumbled in triumph, jogging slowly as he followed the call of the flute. His boots rang against the stone floor as he trotted up a flight of stairs. When the music stopped he froze and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Draco to begin again. Fingers tapping his elbow, he smirked when the music resumed moments later. Sometimes, the blond was so very predictable.

XxXxX

The journal resting in Harry's hands held the three Gryffindors spellbound. Its pages were thin, the parchment a faint yellow with age. Splotches of ink marred the perfection of that which rested on the paper, as if each symbol had been written hastily lest the artist forget. In groupings of five, straight lines paraded across the pale parchment. Small musical notes dotted each line, their tails curved slightly in completion.

"Music?" Hermione whispered, her voiced coloured with disappointment. She reached out and pulled the book from Harry's hands, flipping the page as if to verify her statement. Page after page was filled with written music. Bar upon bar containing scribbled notes.

Harry frowned as he watched Hermione turn the pages, dark eyebrows drawn down in thought. Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers and waited for the witch to return the book to him. Shaking his head as the book was handed back with an unhappy huff, he quickly closed it and drew his wand. Tapping the cover, he whispered the spell Professor Snape had unknowingly taught him several years ago. Holding his breath, he opened it again and began to scan each page carefully.

"Maybe the notes are arranged to form some sort of hidden message?" Hermione suggested, leaning back on her elbows and chewing her lip in concentration. She watched Harry continue his search, eyes narrowed as the raven-haired wizard studied each smear and note.

"Maybe its just music." Ron grumbled, slumping forward and resting his chin in his palms. The redhead rolled his eyes when his girlfriend snorted in disbelief, as if the book could be anything other then simply music.

"Really, Ron. Who records music in a Blood Bound journal then locks it into a vault for safe keeping?" Hermione demanded, heels thumping the wooden bed frame. Shifting, she sat up and waved a hand when his mouth opened to respond. "There's obviously something in there that the writer doesn't want anyone to know about."

"Why do you have to make such a fuss over the simplest things?" Ron muttered in exasperation. Toeing his shoes off, he curled his legs beneath him and dragged part of the comforter over his lap.

"I think I found something." Harry whispered quietly, one finger pointing at the bottom corner of a page. His finger circled his discovery, making sure the arguing pair saw what he was speaking about. Leaning closer, he nibbled his bottom lip before straightening and shaking his head. "I can't read it."

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione curled a lock of brown hair around a finger as she studied the dainty script. The writing was clearly feminine. Loops were larger then they could have been and the last letter of each word was ended with a flourish. "It looks like Latin." She murmured, lifting the book closer to her face so she could see better.

"Well, what does it say?" Ron hissed in excitement, his eyes wide as he leaned forward in expectation of the coming message.

Hermione shot the redhead an amused look and reached over to Harry's desk. Grabbing a slip of crumpled parchment and an old quill, she copied each word, stopping frequently to check her spelling. "Latin is a dead language, Ron. I can't just read it." She mumbled dryly, closing the journal and passing it back to Harry. Glancing down at the copied words, she shook her head before folding the piece of parchment and sliding it into a pocket. "None of the words are familiar from class either."

Harry ran a hand over the book, fingers trailing down the spine. All three were left blinking as a white light engulfed the journal. Pulling lightly on the cover established that the magical locks had slid back into place, making the journal unopenable to anyone. "Do you think you'll be able to translate it?" He asked quietly, turning his head as the door swung open and Dean trudged in followed by Seamus.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stood. Shaking out her robes, she placed a quick kiss on Ron's cheek and headed for the door. "I'll look into it tomorrow." She called hurriedly, blushing as Dean cooed at her and smacked his lips together, mocking the small kiss she'd just given Ron.

Grinning as Ron threw his dirty sock at Dean in retaliation, Harry placed the journal in his trunk and closed the lid gently. Patting the wooden cover, he turned and was slapped in the face by a smelly object. Cringing, he plucked it from his face and hurled it at the ground. "That's disgusting." He hissed through his gritted teeth, marching toward the bathroom with the sole thought of washing his face. Pausing in front of a cracked mirror, he closed his eyes and rested his hands on the edge of the sink. Praying for a dream free sleep, he began to scrub his face.

XxXxX

The moon hung low in the sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. Under its watchful gaze, one of the second year astronomy classes studied the night sky through telescopes. Draco smirked as he watched a young Slytherin discreetly aim his wand at a Gryffindor witch. Chuckling in delight over the sudden flurry of movement the small hex caused, the blond ran a loving hand over the flute he held. He snorted and shook his head as he remembered Pansy's narrowed eyes and the sting of her words as she demanded he leave the instrument with her. She hadn't even checked the case.

Running his tongue over his lips, he raised the flute and closed his eyes. The first ballad he drifted into was one of his favourites, a tale of love and desire that ended tragically. He played without thought, the tips of his fingers floating above the dragon keys. Holding the last note longer then he should have, he smirked and lowered the silver flute. Under the moonlight, it glowed white. Rolling it carefully, he watched as the small images came alive. Wings beating and flames swelling to life as the dragons traveled along the instrument.

Sighing, he rested the flute against his abdomen as he slid down the edge of the window frame. The stone was cold under his bottom, making him shiver and wrap his arms around his waist. Peering out at the lake sloshing softly against the shore beneath the castle, he smiled. An owl hooted loudly, its call answered by dozens of other voices.

Remembering the complicated tune that had echoed around Malfoy Manor at night, he frowned and narrowed his blue eyes. He slid a pale finger over the twining DM, silently thinking of every possible thing the letters could stand for. Shaking his head when he found himself repeating words, he raised the flute and played the opening notes of the dark-haired witch's song. The sound of each note seemed to echo within the night, trembling before vanishing. It was as if the very night stopped to listen. Crickets, owls, and the stars themselves pausing in interest. Cringing as his fingers began tripping over the more difficult notes, he stopped and glared up at the moon.

"Why can't I remember the rest?" He whispered, jerking his head around as the door behind him swung open. Raising an eyebrow at the sight of a panting Blaise, he hid the flute under the edge of his robe.

Fuming, the other wizard stalked forward and halted before Draco. His hands were planted firmly on his hips as he glared down at the blond, one foot taping the floor. "I remember quite clearly telling you not to play that damn flute." He barked, shaking his head as Draco gave him an innocent look. "I suppose you're going to ask me what flute, like you don't have it tucked under the corner of your cloak."

Sniffing, Draco rose and shook his robes out. He held the flute in one hand while swiping at the wrinkles in the rumpled cloth. "It wasn't under my cloak. It was under my robe." He stated, raising his chin and meeting the other wizard's eyes.

"That's beside the point." Blaise snapped, he reached out and made a grab for the instrument the blond cradled, surprised when Draco danced away gracefully. "Draco, might I remind you we know nothing about that flute."

"It's a flute, Blaise. The worst I can do is get a callus from playing too much." Draco said slowly, eyes wide as he gestured at the silver instrument. Waving it slowly back and forth, he rolled his eyes and walked toward the other wizard. "Maybe it's an important family heirloom that my father wanted to keep safe. The possibilities are endless."

"Pansy and I would feel a lot better if you wouldn't play it until we know what it does. A flute that intricately engraved is rarely just a flute. It does something, Draco. Something that we could never begin to imagine." Blaise explained softly, glancing at the floor for a moment. Shaking his head, he looked at the blond who stood directly in front of him. "Give me another day or two, Draco."

Sighing, Draco slid the instrument into his pocket before nodding in agreement. He held his hand out in a gesture of peace, smirking as Blaise took the appendage and dragged him close. Slapping each other on the back for a moment, they pulled a part before turning and heading toward the door. The flute was heavy in his pocket, the renewed promise resting even heavier in his mind.

"It's not that bad. I brought my violin, you can play with that." Blaise offered reluctantly, wincing at the memory of the last time the blond had attempted to play the stringed instrument. The squeal of strings had been so bad his mother's cat had taken refuge beneath her bed and refused to come out for two days.

Smirking at the look on his friend's face, Draco rubbed his hands together. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer." He purred evilly, chuckling in delight as the dark-haired wizard paled. Grinning, the pair walked quietly back to the dungeons, ignoring the chiming of the large clock that informed them all that curfew was drawing ever closer.

XxXxX

Across the churning and tossing ocean, notes drifted slowly. The soft tune carried ever further by the whistling wind that raced over the water and fields tended lovingly by farmers. Deep within the Rocky Mountains, small hot springs bubbled frantically. Dust and rock shook as several massive forms began to uncurl. Tails slid over stone and bumped against the confining walls, shaking small pebbles and rocks free of their moorings. Wings curved and brushed across scaled bodies, grating harshly against the rough skin. Long necks were stretched as the beasts raised their heads, parting their jaws on long drawn out yawns.

The darkness was broken by a faint glow, the flush of fire burning deep inside a dragon's chest. Heads were tipped as the earth around them whispered, the rumble familiar and pulling. Rising for the first time in centuries, the clan of Mage Dragons shook the dust from their scales and flipped their wings. Under the orange glow, the scales covering their long bodies were painted red and yellow, blues and greens hidden by the shadows they had slept in. Breaking through the thick snow and ice that had hidden them for so long, the last great clan of dragons took to the pale sky.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review! Apologies for the late update.

websurffer - lol, I get where you're going. I'm sure Lady Raveana's hatred shall eventually lead her to commit some crime against Draco for simply being a Malfoy.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - Only sometimes? lol, my brother proves the theory daily!  
The Earth Mystic - lol, so many thoughts, so many possibilities. . .  
keeper of most knowledge - I got you with that one, didn't I?  
dreamerlc - lol, hopefully I'll be able to eventually rectify that last point.  
AmethystSiri - You have to look at the sentimental factor though. Girls are often a lot more sentimental then guys, that's why I keep a thieved pair of salt and pepper shakers on display in my room. I mean, girls keep stuff that guys would throw out without a second thought. I think there's probably a bit of romantic thinking going on as well, the history and mystery is just to much for poor Hermione.


	6. The Library Heist

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Five - The Library Heist**

Harry blinked slowly and smothered a yawn with the back of his hand. His eyes shifted from the slip of blue sky revealed by the window to the Professor floating at the front of the class. Resting his chin on the back of his folded hands, he yawned again and allowed his eyes to drift closed. History was definitely the most boring class in the curriculum and should be banned, he thought lazily. Frowning at the faint nudge to his side, he opened one eye and glared at Hermione.

"Pay attention, Harry." She admonished, quill flying as she made notes on Professor Binns' lecture. The witch appeared frazzled as she tried to keep up with the professor, muttering under her breath every now and then.

"At least I'm awake." He mumbled, tipping his head and gesturing at Ron. The redhead was slumped in his chair, book standing open before him and chin resting on his chest. Smirking, he watched Hermione shoot an angered look at Ron before shaking her head in exasperation.

"Wake him up." She hissed, the tip of her quill slowly burying itself into the table under her parchment. "I'm not letting the pair of you use my notes again. I swear-"

"Is there a problem, Mister Potter?" The Professor's stern voice broke the relative silence of the classroom. Immediately all heads turned to look at the student in question, not wanting to miss the chance of seeing a classmate issued a detention.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry purred sweetly, sitting straighter in his chair and donning the persona of the perfect student. "Hermione was talking, could you please repeat that?"

Frowning in warning, the ghost shook his head and turned to face the blackboard. Mumbling to himself for a minute, he reread his last notes before reissuing his last comment. "Please flip to page two hundred and four in your text."

Rolling his eyes, Harry slid back down in his hard chair and narrowed his eyes at the thick tome resting closed in front of him. Planting an open hand on the book, he dragged it closer and turned to the first page. Sitting beside him, Hermione thwacked 'History and it's Mysteries' with her wand and ordered it to turn to the correct page. Shaking his head and sighing over her enthusiasm, Harry flipped to the second page and stared blankly at it before flipping to the next page. In the way of many students, rather then flip immediately to the assigned page, he took his time and revisited past lessons.

A moving picture on one page caught his eye and he halted his slow turning. Smoothing the page down, he pulled the book into his lap and read the title. Chewing his lip, he glanced at the image. A massive green dragon spat fire and threw its angular head back, golden eyes flashing. Its wings curved and snapped downward ruthlessly, long tail skidding across the dirt. Wizards rushed around the silently roaring beast, wands leveled as they secured the chains binding the animal in place. The picture stopped there; the dragon completely secured and awaiting its death.

Reading the short blurb, he frowned and replaced the book on the desk. Drumming his fingers on the scarred wood, he allowed his eyes to travel over the short passage next to the picture. _Over a three-month period, two hundred Mage Dragons were killed mercilessly. The most successful hunting troop was led by Lord Reginald Malfoy; his prowess and ingenious methods of trapping led to the capture and destruction of sixty-three dragons. As ordered by the council, no Mage Dragon was left alive. Resistance against the court motion was small but extremely troublesome and led to no more then six deaths. The last Mage Dragon was destroyed in 1573._

Licking his lips, he watched as the dragon's capture was played out again. Not once did the dragon seem afraid. Its shimmering eyes promising a painful death as it thrashed against the metal pinning it to the earth. Held in a submissive position, the green dragon screamed defiance. Running a finger over the animal's head, he closed the book and sat up in his chair.

"Professor Binns?" He called out, waving a hand to get the ghost's attention. Paling under the Professor's icy gaze, he slowly lowered his fingers.

"This is the second time you've felt the need to interrupt me, Mister Potter. Please tell me what could be so important as to disrupt my class?" The Professor drawled out, floating down the aisle toward Harry. His shimmering form became transparent as he passed slowly through a beam of sunlight.

Swallowing, Harry reddened under the gaze of his Professor and his classmates. Rubbing a gash in the desk with one finger, he lowered his emerald orbs. "I was just wondering if we would be covering the Mage Dragon hunt this year?"

"No, we won't." Binns' grumbled moodily, turning around and gliding silently back to the front of the classroom. Swinging about, the ghost stared at him for a moment. "Mage Dragons aren't covered until seventh year. If you want to learn more on that subject, I suggest checking the library."

Blushing at the snickers running loudly around the room, Harry nodded and slumped back down in the chair. Sighing, he allowed his eyes to slide shut and crossed his arms over his chest. If nothing else, at least he'd leave the classroom filling slightly rested.

XxXxX

Hermione settled herself at one of the long tables in the library. The large room usually appeared cavernous and heavily shadowed but in the middle of the afternoon, full of chatting students, it seemed very small. Arranging her books and study materials around her carefully, she shot an annoyed look at the arguing quartet sitting down the table from her. Two Slytherins and two Gryffindors fought angrily over ownership of a small book, all four looking ready to draw their wands and commence dueling.

Raising an eyebrow, she watched Harry plod toward her and drop his book bag on the floor at her feet. Seeing the raven-haired wizard in the library this early was unusual. Especially since he was there of his own free will. His arrival halted the debate occurring down the table, the young Slytherins shooting an anxious glance at the senior Gryffindors before scurrying away and vanishing among the shelves. Smirking in appreciation, the two lion cubs opened their newly acquired book and began to read.

"Watch my stuff, will you?" Harry muttered, already trudging away from the table. Shaking her head in amusement, Hermione opened her history book and pulled a piece of parchment forward. Dipping her quill in the inkpot resting on the table, she tapped her chin with the long feather and glanced about. Nibbling her lower lip in thought, she watched Harry wander down one of the long bookshelves, fingers running along the spines absently.

"Stay away from the restricted section, Harry." She whispered under her breath, cringing as the wizard sauntered by the chain marking the small area as off limits. Sighing in relief when he stopped further down before a heavily stacked shelf, she shook her head and went back to her essay.

Working diligently, she easily filled five inches of parchment before sitting back and putting her quill on the table. Raising her hands, she ran her fingers through her hair before looking around. Sliding her chair back, she tilted her head and peered down the aisle she had least seen Harry in. The raven haired wizard was sitting on the floor leaning against a shelf, in his lap a dusty book was perched precariously. He appeared completely engrossed in the text, ignoring the students stepping over him.

Smiling softly, Hermione reread her work and made a few corrections before flipping to the index of her book. Running a finger down the column of words, she paused and looked up as a small disturbance occurred just inside the library doors. Narrowing her eyes, she watched as Parkinson and Zabini whispered heatedly back and forth before separating. The witch glided toward the librarian's desk, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder as she went. Zabini slipped down one of the far aisles, appearing interested in the books shelved there.

Something was a foot, Hermione thought. Glancing back and forth between the pair, she observed the Slytherins carefully. Zabini was drifting slowly closer to the restricted section, eyes narrowed as he read over titles. Her eyes widened when the Slytherin wizard tossed a furtive look at his partner before stepping over the chain and entering the restricted section.

Mouth falling open in shock over his blatant disregard for the rules, she could only gape as he ran a hand over several books before yanking one free of the mess. A sharply raised voice had her head jerking around, blinking as Parkinson slammed a book down on the librarian's desk and stormed from the room. By the time she turned back to look at Zabini, the wizard was standing several books down from Harry.

"Do something, Harry." She mumbled, disbelief over the Slytherin's actions colouring her words. Hermione smirked pridefully as Harry's lips moved, obviously rebuffing the Slytherin. Her grin faded when Zabini smiled and replied to Harry's comment, flicking his fingers in farewell before exiting the library. Hissing softly, she waved a hand at the raven-haired Gryffindor and waited for him to come over. Tapping the feather of her quill on the table in a quick rhythm, she raised an eyebrow when Harry stopped beside her. "Well?"

"Well what?" Harry asked, brow drawn down in confusion, he placed the book he had been reading on the table and pulled out a chair.

"What did you say to Zabini?" Hermione asked, collecting her papers and closing her text. She widened her eyes when Harry grinned and patted the top of his book.

"Oh, that. I said 'good job'." Harry announced on a grin, chuckling softly at Hermione's loud scoff. Still smiling in appreciation over the ease with which the other wizard had pulled the little heist off, he shook his head and flipped his book open.

Sighing softly, she rolled her eyes and slid her books back into her bag. She raised an eyebrow as she glanced at Harry, finding him completely absorbed in the tome he held. "I'm leaving now, are you coming?" Mumbling under his breath, Harry waved a hand and turned the page in the book. "Alright, I'll see you next class. Don't be late." Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she walked from the room, leaving Harry to his reading.

XxXxX

Blaise glided into the Slytherin Common Room with a roguish grin gracing his face. His eyes glowed as he ran his fingers over the dark leather of the bag that hung over his shoulder, feeling the book hidden by the cloth. He paused in the center of the room, eyes searching for Pansy amongst the sea of green and silver. Nodding to the witch, he patted his bag before heading in the direction of the sixth year dorms. The spacious room was empty upon his arrival, beds made neatly and desks organized.

Boots thudding gently against the stone floor, he padded to his desk and dropped the leather bag onto the glossy wood. His fingers trembled as he pulled the book from the depths of the bag, smoothing the dusty cover with a sweep of his hand. Blaise pulled the chair out and collapsed into it, licking his lips and flipping quickly to the table of contents. He glanced at the clock sitting on Draco's night stand, checking the time before turning his attention back to the stolen book.

"Ten Thousand Flutes and their Founders." Smirking over his successful heist, he ran fingers through curly hair while scanning the table of contents. The book listed the flutes alphabetically, each chapter representing a letter. "D, four hundred three." He whispered softly, turning quickly to the indicated page. His face fell when he observed the length of the chapter, groaning loudly.

Shaking his head, he turned the page and began to read the name of each flute. The name of the flute Draco held started with the letter D and contained a second word beginning with an M. It's intricate design and dragon engravings made him assume the instrument had something to do with the large winged creatures.

"Dragon it is." He muttered, turning slowly and looking for the word. Finding it at the bottom of page four hundred eighteen, he grinned. Dragon Aid. Dragon Breath. Dragon Call. Dragon Fire. Dragon Flare. Crossing his fingers, he drew a deep breath and turned the page. "Bloody hell!"

Running up the center of the book was a line of torn and shredded paper. The letter E lying darkly upon the next page. Looking at the back of the last remaining page of D, he found the final flute listed as the Dragon Love Lure.

"What's the matter?" Pansy asked, leaning into the room. One of her hands rested on the door knob while the other was settled upon her hip, eyebrows raised as she wondered over his sudden outburst.

"Some bloody fool ripped the page out!" Blaise bellowed loudly. Slamming the tome closed, he leaned back in the chair and ran his hands over his face. He couldn't believe it, he really couldn't believe it. After all the trouble they had gone through planning and stealing the damn thing it didn't even have the bloody page they needed.

"Nonsense." Pansy murmured soothingly, "I'm sure it just got tucked in somewhere else." Walking across to the fuming wizard, she picked the book up and held it by the covers. Flipping it upside down, she gave it a firm shake and paled when a ripping sound filled the room."I guess we won't be returning it like we'd originally planned."

Peeking between his fingers, Blaise sighed mournfully and shook his head. "It's fixable." He said, watching as Pansy tried to reattach the cover to the spine. Reaching out, he took the back section and the cover, placing them upon his desk and whispering an attachment spell. As the glow from the spell faded, both Slytherins could see the cover had bound itself back to the book. Backwards. "Maybe no one will notice."

"The title is still visible on the spine." Pansy offered, patting him on the back of the head in a comforting gesture. The clock sitting on Draco's night table beeped in warning, causing the pair to pull apart and shoot an anxious look at the time. "We'll be late for Ancient Runes." The witch gasped, spinning around and running from the room to get her books.

Snorting at her inelegant exit, Blaise pulled the drawer of his desk open and dropped the book inside. Glaring down at the now useless text, he smiled slightly and shook his head. He did love a good mystery.

XxXxX

She was running hard, chest burning as she gasped for air. Her long black hair snagged in the grabbing branches, yanking painfully as she pressed onward. Emerald eyes watered from the wind and the constant sting of branches slapping at her face. In the distance, a dragon screamed loudly. The same high-pitched shriek that had shaken the fine glass of her castle's windows. Panting, she winced as a thin whip like twig slapped her across the face, leaving her skin burning in its wake. Feeling the first drop of blood roll from the small wound, she fell into a small clearing.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her. One of her dragons was pinned to the ground, wings flailing desperately as he fought the chains holding him. Blue scales glittered under the soft moonlight, marred in places by long gashes and deep cuts. Chest heaving, she felt her throat tighten as the dragon threw his head back and bellowed in agony. The flash of metal caught her eye and she turned quickly, stilling almost immediately.

A wizard with shaggy brown hair was perched atop the dragon's back, hand locked around the wing joint. His face was drawn as he used a sharp blade to saw through the bone and nerves attaching the wing to the dragon's body. With a dull tear, the final tendon snapped and the wing slid free of the heaving, twisting dragon. Her knees weakened and she felt herself begin to retch as the dragon shrilled in pain. Bending at the waist, she gagged and vomited. Spitting in an effort to clear her mouth, she ran a hand over her lips before straightening and raising her chin.

One of her pale hands slid to the small of her back, grasping the handle of the dagger tucked there. "You're trespassing upon my land." She stated firmly, her empty voice drawing the man's gaze. Her hand clenched around the dagger, fingers caressing the cool iron patiently.

The wizard slid slowly down the dragon's back, dropping lightly to the ground. His eyes traveled cooly down her body, tongue running over his lips as he took her bedraggled appearance in. "Court ruling," he said loudly. Smirking he glided toward her and wiggled his eyebrows. "Perhaps a trade? A quick shag for a dragon's fang? They're worth a lot, you know."

In return she smiled, a baring of teeth before she rushed him. The dagger slid easily through the air, wind whistling lovingly over the metal before it sank into his throat. She danced nimbly back as made a half-hearted effort to wound her with the blade he carried, sinking to his knees as he gurgled. "No deal." She whispered, bending over his twitching body and pulling her dagger free. The dragon gave another shrieking cry, blood running freely from the stump that had once supported a proudly arching wing. Drawing a deep breath, she pried the long blade free of the wizard's limp fingers

Her skirts were tossed gently by the wind as she approached the dragon. A gold eye rolled to watch her, a plea for aid creeping from between his bloody jaws. She rested a shaking hand on the dragon's muzzle, fingers smoothing the warm scales. "I'm sorry, my poor Blue Knight." She murmured mournfully, dropping her forehead to rest against his cheek. Whispering loving words quietly, she raised the blade and rested it against the fine skin of his throat. "I failed you." She said, moving the blade in a merciful stroke. The dragon's head thudded against the ground and the gold eye slid closed.

Dropping to her knees, she rested an arm over the giant muzzle and pressed her face against his. Tears slid down her cheeks as her ears picked up the faint strain of dragon song in the distance, the first notes of what would become a mourning melody. Sniffling, she slid a hand into her pocket and withdrew a silver flute. Leaning against her Blue Knight's head, she raised the flute to her mouth and played, tears rolling down her face as she stared up at the glistening moon.

XxXxX

Draco rolled to the side of his bed and heaved, body shaking. Gasping, he whimpered and raised a hand to push his sweat dampened hair away from his mouth. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he stared at the mess on the floor. His fingers trembled as he reached for his wand and vanished the mess. Replacing the wand, he stared at his night table before reaching over and opening the top drawer slowly.

The wooden flute case was warm beneath his touch, making him jerk his hand back in shock. Drawing a deep breath in, he pushed the drawer closed and glanced at the clock. He still had plenty of time to sleep but even as he went to lay back down he saw the dragon's flashing eyes in his mind. Balling his hands into fists, he struggled free of the blankets and walked toward the adjoining bathroom.

He stalked straight into one of the shower stalls, sliding his boxers off and tossing them at the far wall. Spinning the knob for the warm water, he sank to his knees beneath the hot spray. "What do you want from me?" He whispered at the white walls, hands resting on his knees as he looked through the mist. Shoulders shaking, he dropped his head and let the warm water beat down on his back.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review!

NinjaoftheDarkness - My brother once again proves my theory as he goes speeding off in my car during the middle of a snowstorm.  
IvyeSnowe - lol, glad you like it.  
keeper of most knowledge - lol, you do that and I'll start writing the next chapter (Which I've been drooling to write)  
wizli - Glad you like it. If there's a chance to make it magical I will always do so.  
dreamerlc - I should take my time and I do but as soon as I post a chapter I immediately start writing the next.


	7. The Music Room

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K Rowling.

**

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Chapter Six - The Music Room**

Gasping for breath, Harry sat up in bed. His pale fingers clutched at the sweat-dampened sheets as his eyes scanned the blurry room. Scrabbling at the night table, he found his glasses and slid them on, blinking as his vision cleared. Around him, his dorm mates slept peacefully. Snores and the rustle of blankets the only sound in the quiet room. He uncurled his fingers and stared at his knuckles, eyes searching for blood. The memory had him swallowing and balling his hands into fists, unwillingly watching the blade slide across the dragon's throat in one smooth stroke. She had done it so easily, killed so effortlessly and efficiently. The blade so light in the palm of her hand.

"Another dream." He whispered into the silence, shoulders shuddering as the fading call of the flute rose up in his mind. The flash of bright emerald eyes and the mass of dark curls had told him everything. She was a Potter. Sighing, he slowly rolled from bed and grabbed his robe. The warmth of the material did nothing to dispatch the chills running up his spine. He halted at the end of his bed and glowered down at the trunk resting there before giving in and opening the lid quietly. The leather journal sat upon a pile of old birthday cards, its creamy cover beckoning. Scooping it up, he held it at arms length and frowned. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Shivering from both the cold and the memories slinking through his mind, he plodded slowly downstairs. He smiled when he saw Hermione perched before the crackling fire, papers and books spread around her. His stocking clad feet whispered over the stone stairs, concealing his presence until he stopped beside the witch.

Hermione's eyes widened as Harry glided from the shadows. Her startled look quickly changing to one of concern as she saw the worn out expression on his pale face. His usually sparkling eyes were shadowed and sad, and in his hands rested the journal. "What happened?"

"I had another dream." Harry murmured, walking around the brown haired witch and shoving some papers out of the way so he could sit down next to her. Slumping into the bawdy red fabric, he settled the leather book on his knee and closed his eyes. "There was a man. He was killing a blue dragon and she killed him. So easily, Hermione, as if his life meant nothing."

Hermione offered him a small smile and rested a light hand on his knee. "I'm sure she only did it because she had too." She said, giving his leg a squeeze before beginning to arrange her papers.

"There were other ways, Hermione. She could have used a spell on him. Could have drawn her wand but she didn't. She pulled a dagger and killed him." Harry stressed, opening his eyes and stretching his toes toward the fire. His shoulders shook as he remembered the cold expression on her face moments before she had plunged the dagger into the wizard's throat. "And the dragon. . . she killed it too."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, her grip loosening on the papers she held. Shuffling carefully, she swallowed and set the pile on top of her book. "Sometimes what looks like murder is really mercy. That wizard would have killed more dragons if she had let him go. And the dragon. . . would it have been fair to let it live if it was in pain and unhealable?"

"I suppose." He muttered, fiddling with the journal resting in his lap. The creamy book opened with a click when his fingers fluttered down the spine, seemingly recognizing his touch. Idly, he flipped it open and stared down at the dancing notes.

"I'm finished," Hermione said, pulling a sheet of parchment free of her text and offering it to him.

Harry raised an eyebrow and accepted the paper, flipping it around so he could read her neat writing. "Combine Mage and Maw and you have a power greater then anything ever foresaw." He murmured, frowning in confusion he shook his head and glanced at Hermione. "I don't get it."

"I had one of the seventh years check my translation and they said it was pretty close. It was the line you found in the journal." The bushy haired witch reminded, grinning as his face brightened and he looked at the sentence with a new light in his eyes. Still smiling, she pulled the forgotten journal from his lap and rested it next to another slip of paper. Taking up her quill, she began to write carefully under each note. Pausing every few minutes to confirm what she was writing with her notes before continuing.

"Mage? As in wizard? Or as in dragon?" Harry wondered out loud, glancing over at Hermione. His mouth fell open when he saw she was writing inside the journal. Reaching out to snatch the book back, he found his hands knocked away and a glaring Hermione peering up at him.

"It could be either at this point. Until you figure out what Maw she's speaking about, you'll have to guess." Hermione mumbled, returning to her editing.

"You make it all sound so simple." Harry grumbled, crumpling the paper and pushing it into the pocket of his robe. Leaning back on the soft couch, he crossed his arms and watched Hermione write in the journal. "What are you doing?"

Hermione's cheeks reddened as she paused in mid-letter. Lying her quill down, she sat up and turned to face the raven-haired wizard. "My parents made me take piano lessons when I was younger. I remember some of it, but not enough to play any of this. Whoever wrote this was good, really good." She murmured wistfully, sighing as she looked over the bars of music. Her fingers hovered above the notes, curving as if she could feel the piano keys beneath her ink-stained digits. "Each letter corresponds to a note, which you should be able to figure out."

"I doubt it." Harry mumbled, examining the letters with a studied effort. He accepted the small book Hermione handed him and raised an eyebrow at the diagram of a piano keyboard. "I hope you don't expect me to memorize this."

Shaking her head, she settled her papers back into her bag and rose. "No, but at least make an attempt to remember some of it." Grinning at his groan, she gave him a pat on the knee and headed up the stairs to her dorm room, leaving him to contemplate the markings in the journal.

XxXxX

The Great Hall was crowded and loud during lunch. Numerous students moving to and from their house tables as they arrived and departed for a bite to eat before heading off to their next classes. Amidst all the noise and chatter, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table hunched over a thick book. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, fingers tapping the scarred wood in a steady movement. Glancing up as Hermione and Ron flopped down across from him, he raised a dark eyebrow and frowned.

"What happened to the pair of you?"

Huffing in indignation, Hermione slammed one of her text books down on the table. Tossing her hair angrily, she shot a glare at Ron before pulling a plate closer and looking over today's selection. "Ronald got in a fight with Malfoy." The witch bit out, slapping a sandwich down on her plate. "Right in front of Professor Snape."

"He started it." Ron grumbled, sliding along the bench to put a little more space between Hermione and himself when the witch narrowed her eyes and slowly turned to face him. "He did!"

"You're old enough to know better, Ron. Honestly! You'd think after going to school with Malfoy for five years you'd at least notice his style of warfare. He obviously knew Professor Snape was nearby and would come as soon as the confrontation got out of hand." Hermione hissed, shaking her head in disgust.

Harry rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. The pair would continue to argue like this for the rest of the week or until Ron decided to apologize. Flipping a page of the book sitting on the table in front of him, he let out a gasp and leaned closer. Standing proudly between the limp bodies of two dragons, a blond wizard smirked smugly. In his left hand he held a sword, blood congealing on the metal as he peered around him at carnage. "Malfoy!"

"Um, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, the tone of her voice raising his head.

He felt his face warm with the rush of blood as he realized the hall had fallen silent at his outburst. Clearing his throat, he looked down the table and made a hand motion, encouraging the Gryffindors to continue their conversations. Rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, he slid the book toward Hermione. "That is a Malfoy, Hermione."

"Harry, it's been widely written and recorded that the Malfoy's built their fortune on the blood of the Mage Dragons." Hermione whispered, closing the book with a thud after looking at the picture. Her face paled as she looked over his shoulder, one hand reaching over and tapping Ron's elbow as a shadow fell over Harry.

"Scarhead." Draco purred in greeting, arms crossed over chest as he looked down at the seated trio. His pale eyebrows arched as he read the cover of the book resting on the table before Harry. "Developed a sudden interest in the history of my family?"

Harry's shoulders hunched at the soft voice, turned slowly on the bench so he could glare up into the blond's icy eyes. "Just trying to figure out if the actual date of your family going dark was recorded." He replied smoothly, placing a hand on the book and dragging it closer to him. Hermione's hiss of warning had him internally rolling his eyes and holding a hand out to ward her off.

Narrowing angered eyes, Draco leaned over Harry and allowed his arms to fall away from his chest, long fingers curling into fists. "I think it was about the same time the Weasel's family went poor." The blond growled, face contorted into a mask of fury at Harry's impertinent remark.

"Take that back, Malfoy!" Ron roared, standing quickly and stumbling against the table as he banged his legs on the bench barricading him in.

"Make me, Weasel." Draco muttered smugly, straightening and shooting a quick look at the head table. Seeing the lack of professors present, he drew his wand and waved it at the redhead. "The day any of you manage to touch me will be the day my father loses his fortune."

Hermione coughed sharply and ran her fingers over the knuckles of her other hand. "I remember touching you quite well, Malfoy. Perhaps a repeat performance will remind you?"

Cheeks reddening, Draco snorted and raised his chin. "I have no idea what you're speaking of." He snapped, spinning around on the heel of his boot and pushing past the Slytherins that had gathered behind him.

Harry chuckled and shot Hermione a triumphant smile, quickly wiping his face clean when he met her blazing eyes.

"Oh, the pair of you!" She hissed, rising and marching from the hall without further comment.

"That was sudden." Ron remarked, licking the tings of his fork clean while staring at the open doors of the Great Hall. Harry nodded in agreement and reopened his book. Finding the last page he remembered reading, he returned to his study of the Mage Dragon hunt and the Malfoys part in their destruction.

XxXxX

Harry slipped silently into the music room and closed the door softly. Along the far wall, large windows allowed the moonlight to brighten the room and cast dark shadows over the floor. Instruments shone bronze and white beneath the glow, shimmering lightly. The thud of his boots on the stones of the floor echoed around the vaulted ceiling, causing him to wince as he approached the piano. Its wood gleamed obsidian and the pale keys called for the practiced fingers of an expert.

He ran a hand over the softly padded bench, stiffening as he gently perched himself on the edge. Sighing, he opened the journal and rested it on the small ledge above the keys. "I hope you're right, Hermione." He mumbled softly, stiffening one finger and jabbing a key without thought. Smiling at the deep thonk, he whispered _Lumos_ and laid his wand carefully in front of the book. The white glow illuminated the letters the Gryffindor witch had written beneath the notes, making them shimmer and dance beneath the inconsistent light.

Chewing his bottom lip in concentration, he whispered the name of the first note and rested his finger on the corresponding key. Under his inexperienced fingers, the note was dull and lifeless. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he plonked it again before glancing back at the journal. He eyed the second note thoughtfully, looking over the long ladder of ivory keys in search of the one indicated.

The scuff of a shoe and shrieking creak of the door sliding open had him hissing _Nox_ and dragging his invisibility cloak over his head. He slipped off the bench and slunk into the shadows, holding his breath as the figure moved into the room. Emerald eyes widened as the figure looked around, pale blonde hair shining under the moon's gentle fingers.

"Hello?" Draco called, blue eyes narrowing as he searched the room. The tip of his wand swung in a slow arc, white light ghosting over instruments and desks. Snorting in disgust, the Slytherin lowered his wand and turned to leave but froze with one hand on the wooden door.

Harry cringed as Draco glided towards the piano, hands balling into fists as the other wizard picked up the leather bound journal. Clutching the soft fabric of his cloak, he prepared to reveal himself should the other wizard attempt to leave with the book. His mouth fell open as the blond replaced the journal and rifled through his pockets. Humming in appreciation, Draco drew a silver flute from the cloth of his cloak and caressed the metal lovingly.

The blond raised the instrument to his lips and played several notes softly. It was the sudden tensing of his shoulders that warned Harry something was wrong. The way the blond allowed the flute to fall away from his lips in realization.

"What the hell?" Draco whispered, loosely holding the flute at his side as he examined the music carefully. Gaping, the blond flipped through several pages and shook his head in shock. He knew the melody recorded on that page. It had haunted and taunted him these past few weeks, beckoning and urging him on. "Where the hell did you come from?" He murmured, shaking his head in disbelief over his discovery. Sliding the flute back into his pocket, he picked the book up and spun toward the door, halting as he found his path blocked.

"That's mine." Harry said loudly, indicating the journal Malfoy clutched. His invisibility cloak was tucked under his arm, wand tip leveled at the blond's chest in warning.

In a quick movement, Draco had his own wand held lightly between his fingers, the sparking tip resting at heart level. "Finders keepers, Potter." He muttered, shuffling to the left in an attempt to get past the enraged Gryffindor.

"Give it to me, Malfoy!" The raven-haired wizard spat, not caring that his voice ricocheted off the ceiling and walls. A low mewing sound had him wincing and glancing at the crack of open door behind him. Standing coyly in the doorway, Mrs. Norris gave him a triumphant look before vanishing, her loud hisses and screeches rattling the portraits on the walls as she raced off to tell her master. "Dammit! Give me the bloody book, Malfoy!"

Sniffing, Draco slid the journal into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. "Prefect power, Potter. I'm not going to get in trouble but you most certainly will." The blond whispered victoriously, one hand caressing the cloth of his cloak pocket.

Harry lunged at the Slytherin, hands locking in the collar of Draco's shirt. Slamming into the floor, the blond gasped for breath while vainly swatting at Harry's searching hands. Hissing and swearing, the pair tumbled around the stone floor in the moonlight. Fingers tangling and knees banging together as they tried to gain the upper hand.

It was the sudden darkening of the room that froze the pair. Hands stilling as they slowly looked at the wall of glass windows. Rushing toward the panes, a shadow gained momentum with each hard flap of wings.

"Shite!" Draco hissed, eyes widening as he attempted to pull away from Harry's tensed form. Mouths opening on screams, the pair fell apart. Glass exploded and shattered. The curtains hanging beside the windows sweeping out on a gust of wind. Shards of broken window caught the moonlight, small hunks of wood clattering as they bounced off desks and walls. Puffing for breath, Draco dove into an instrument cupboard. Ignoring the creaking of protesting metal, he perched atop an unbalanced stack of instruments, fingers locked around the edges of the wood door to hold it closed.

Standing in the center of the room, a dragon settled its wings carefully. Scales hissed and grated as the animal swung its narrow head. The dragon gave a quiet barking call, dagger sharp teeth flashing as it tipped its muzzle. Its talons clicked on the stone as it turned slowly. Glass crunched as it inhaled deeply, shuffling uncertainly in place. Gold scales shone white as the beast tipped its head and focused one unblinking on the curtains drifting in the night breeze.

The door swung open suddenly, Filch standing centered in the doorway with Mrs. Norris resting at his heels. His mouth fell open at the sight before him and he gave a squeak. The dragon's wings unfurled with a snap, eyes glowing as it hissed and flicked its tongue in threat. Black coasted along the edges of its wings, a splash of shadow on the brightly coloured animal.

"Sandtongue." Draco mumbled in shock, watching as Filch stumbled back and slammed the door closed. The dragon appeared next to his hiding spot in a flash of movement. The horns on its nose appearing sharp as the animal slid the edge of its muzzle along the wooden door, pausing above Draco's curled fingers. Holding his breath, the blond prayed for a miracle.

The thud of something striking a wall on the opposite side of the room had him thanking Merlin. Shifting so he could see around the door, he watched as the gold dragon examined a chunk of wood excitedly. Eyes glimmering, the animal gave a delighted cry and raised its head. Crooning softly, the Sandtongue searched the room, wings drooping when the call went unanswered.

A bugling bellow rose in the distance, drawing the small dragon's attention. Barking a response, the animal considered the wood before scooping it up carefully and lunging toward the broken window. Wings opened with a snap as the dragon launched itself skyward, disappearing with a shimmer into the night.

Sliding from his hiding spot, Draco jumped when Harry appeared out of the shadows across from him. Without speaking or arguing, they both made for the door. Scrabbling at the handle before managing to swing the wood open and fall out into the hall. Breathing deeply, they leaned against the wall opposite the music room. The distance hum of voices had both jerking upright and dashing off down the hall, seeking the warmth and safety of their dorms and their beds.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!

Kanna-chii - I'm glad you like it!  
NinjaoftheDarkness - It's gotta be the gas fumes or something. As soon as his foot touches the gas pedal it's like he becomes invincible. Poor me clutching the door handle while tugging my seat belt tighter in the passenger seat.  
imakeeper - lol, I think we fanfic writers have forgotten that there have to be other aspects to wizarding history besides the Goblin Wars.  
IvySnowe - Yeah, poor Draco and Harry is definitely on the right path.  
keeper of most knowledge - If it were only so easy . . .to lay the pieces and connect the dots. Exhausting! lol, I think I deserve a cookie after killing off yet another of my characters.


	8. A Sandtongue Dragon

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Seven - A Sandtongue Dragon**

Harry pounded up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower, his cloak hanging loosely around his shoulders. His eyes were wide as he tossed a look over his shoulder, searching the shadows for the snarling form of a dragon. Panting, he halted in front of the Fat Lady and leaned one hand against the ornate frame. The portrait mumbled in her sleep, shifting on the chair she sat in. Rolling his eyes, Harry rapped hard on the edge of the frame, grimacing when the Fat Lady bolted upright in her chair with a surprised snort.

"Phoenix Rising." He croaked, shaking his hands anxiously at his sides and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Sighing with relief as the portrait swung open, he clambered into the Common Room and dashed for the stairs leading to his dorm.

The Tower was silent as he quietly crept down the short hall into the room he shared with the other sixth year boys. Biting his lip as the door squeaked behind him, he closed his eyes in pleasure and leaned against the cool wood. He ran his hands over his face as he padded towards his bed, collapsing on the warm blankets and moaning in delight. Curling himself into a ball atop the duvet, he tucked his hands between his knees and stared blankly at the curtains of Ron's bed.

He could still hear the shrill cry of the dragon amid the crashing and screaming of breaking glass. The animal had been magnificent, its scales gleaming a pale gold under the moon's rays. It was like the dragon was looking for something. The way it had called softly and waited as if someone or something was going to answer. Filch had certainly been afraid of the pony sized animal, the sounds of his retreat heard over the dragon's rumbles. He shivered as he remembered how close he'd been to the animal. The warmth rolling off its scaled body had been enough to redden his cheeks. Rising, he moved to change into his pajamas. His fingers froze on the lid of his trunk as he peered into its shadowed interior.

He tipped his head back and groaned loudly, the palm of his right hand connecting firmly with his forehead. Malfoy had the journal. In the melee and aftermath, he'd forgotten to reclaim the book from the blond.

"Merlin's balls." He grumbled, dropping to sit on the floor in front of the wooden chest. Resting his head on the wood, he ran his hands along the trunk and wondered what it would take to get the book back. Malfoy had seemed quite determined to keep it. His reaction to the music puzzling. It had been like he'd recognized it from somewhere. "Impossible."

Shaking his head, Harry finished changing and crawled into bed. He'd just have to wait and discuss the entire issue with Hermione and Ron tomorrow. While he was at it he'd try and figure out what it would cost to get his journal back. Snuggling into his pillow, he closed his eyes and dreamed of dragons.

XxXxX

Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room calmly, swishing his cloak aside as he brushed past two snogging seventh years. Shaking his head and snorting over there public display, he stalked up the stairs into the dorms of the sixth years. He burst through the door and smiled with pleasure as the wood connected loudly with one of the dungeons stone walls. Standing in the doorway, he cleared his throat and waited patiently to be acknowledged.

"Draco! Whatever it is you want can wait for tomorrow!" Blaise snarled sleepily, not bothering to push the curtains shielding his bed out of the way. He rolled his eyes as the thud of boots approached his bed, groaning when the blond swept the long swathes of fabric back and crawled onto the bed. "Draco," he moaned, flopping onto his back and raising one hand to shield his eyes from the glow cast by the wand jammed into his face.

"Get up, Blaise. This is important." Draco stated quietly, reaching behind him and drawing the hanging curtains back into place. Frowning as the dark haired boy grumbled under his breath, he delved into his pocket and slipped the journal free. "Look at this."

Moaning, Blaise opened one eye and peered doubtfully at the book jammed under his nose. "Do you know what time it is?" He asked slowly, dragging at the blankets that had been pulled down under the blond's weight. Sighing when Draco merely raised an eyebrow at his rhetorical question, he sat up and grabbed the cream coloured book.

"It's late, or early depending on which way you want to look at it." The blond replied, sliding the flute free of his pocket and settling it on his lap. His fingers caressed the keys as he watched his friend examine the cover of the journal. Taking in the scripted R and the etchings in the corner.

Blaise trailed a finger along the book's spine, shivering as a tingle leapt up to nibble at the digit. Drawing back, he rubbed his fingers together and looked at the book with a new light in his tired eyes. "This journal is magic." He murmured, pulling gently at the cover. "Where did you find it?" Truthfully, he really didn't want to know where Draco had found the book. After the flute incident, things could only get worse.

"The Music Room. You know, the one on the opposite side of the castle on the fifth floor? It was on the piano ledge when I walked in. All the music in it. . . I've heard it before. The witch from the painting was playing one of the first songs I tried." Draco hissed in excitement, his hands clenched around the flute, fingers sliding restlessly over the engraved keys. "Then Potter appeared and said it was his."

"Potty was in the Music Room?" Blaise asked, eyebrows arching in amusement. Shaking his head, he stared down at the journal.

"Pay attention, Blaise." Draco demanded, huffing in annoyance when his words failed to illicit a response from the other wizard. "There was a dragon, it came through the window. Crashed right through the glass and stood there." His voice had softened, eyes glowing in remembrance of the beauty and grace the animal had burned with.

"A dragon? You're saying there was a dragon in the castle? Here? And no one else saw it?" Blaise questioned, eyes narrowed as he leaned closer and examined the blond's robes for signs of a struggle. He reached out and ran a finger over a gash in the cloth of Draco's cloak, grimacing when the tear lengthened under his touch. "Did Potter hit you by chance?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco reached out and snatched the journal back. "Yes, but that was before the dragon arrived. Really, Blaise, you should learn to listen better." Holding the book with the cover facing the other wizard, he brandished it in warning. "The dragon was a Sandtongue. I recognized it from the etching on the flute. Its head perfectly matched the image on this key." He said, finger tapping the key that Pansy had identified days ago.

"The Sandtongue is a Mage Dragon, Draco. They're extinct." Blaise reminded, glancing back and forth between the flute and the book. He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Something was making sense. The distinct feeling that he should know what was going on danced around his mind as he looked at the head of the engraved Sandtongue. Its eyes glowed and the dark horns on its short muzzle made the creature seem all the more dangerous.

"They can't be extinct if I saw one, Blaise." The duh wasn't spoken but clearly implied by the look on the blond's face. Draco's fingers flexed on the journal, brushing the vine like etchings curling around one of the corners. The small leaves and flowers appeared natural, yet something shiny was caught by wand light before vanishing just as quickly.

"And you're sure Potter didn't hex you?" He questioned carefully, looking slowly back and forth between the journal and the flute. The letter R screamed at him silently. In the recesses of his mind, a name was whispered and repeated, yet went unacknowledged.

"If anything he saved me." Draco grumbled in distaste, bottom lip sticking out as he recalled the moment the dragon had ran the edge of its nose along the back of his curled fingers. His pale eyes narrowed as he remembered the way the dragon had breathed in over the hunk of wood that had collided with the wall. "It was like it recognized his scent." He murmured in wonder, chin tipping back as he peered up into the darkened canopy.

"You lost me again." Blaise said, he shook his head when the blond failed to return mentally, so obviously lost within his own thoughts.

"Never mind." Draco mumbled, settling the journal down on his folded legs and running his fingers through his already mussed hair. The sudden bite of pain running up one of his fingers had him gasping and jerking his hand out from behind his head. Blood ran from a gash on his index finger, small drops slowly sliding over his white skin.

"You must have gotten glass in your hair." Blaise hissed, grabbing Draco's hand and examining the small cut. A flash of pale green light had him looking down. Eyes widening as he saw the book glow a fiery red before fading to its former creamy colour. "Blood Bound. This journal is Blood Bound."

Draco shook his injured finger before wrapping the edge of his cloak around the cut. He peered at the journal sitting quietly in his lap, several drops of dried blood resting upon the cover. "Blood Bound? So that's why Potter could open it and I couldn't." He said loudly, glaring angrily at the book. Snorting over their discovery, he swiped his fingers over the dots of dried blood, smearing them further over the leather. Sighing, he allowed Blaise to check his hair for more glass before crawling between the curtains and heading for the exit.

"Maybe you should give the journal back to Potter." Blaise suggested, peeking between his curtains as Draco sauntered slowly from the dorm room. "I mean, if the dragon is after the journal, it'll only make our lives better if Potter gets eaten."

Draco paused in the doorway, turning around and posing neatly. The journal thudded against his thigh as he smirked in triumph at the other wizard. "When was the last time you saw a dragon crawling around dungeons?" He asked sweetly, he wiggled his fingers goodbye as he turned around and glided from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dropping back onto the bed, Blaise ran his fingers through his hair. "Seconds ago, and it didn't run at the first signs of trouble." Grumbling, he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. Draco's newest find and fight troubling him deeply. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he should have fit the pieces together by now.

XxXxX

The Gryffindor Common Room was quiet as the sun stretched over the Forbidden Forest. Most of the students were already down in the Great Hall eating breakfast, and those that weren't were probably planning on making a dash for class when the warning bells went off.

Harry tapped one of his toes nervously on the floor and looked back and forth between Hermione and Ron. The pair sat side by side on one of the couches, eyebrows raised in disbelief over the tale they had just been told. "So?" He asked, having grown tired of staring at their blank faces.

"There was a dragon in the castle?" Hermione repeated, one of her hands gliding restlessly over the cover of a text book sitting in her lap.

"Yes, a little dragon but a dragon none the less." He repeated for what seemed like the third time. He raised his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing when Ron exchanged an uncertain look with Hermione.

"Malfoy didn't happen to hit you, did he?" Ron asked with narrowed eyes, his face reddened when Harry groaned and dropped into the chair behind him.

"Malfoy and I were fighting before the dragon arrived." Harry grit out slowly, hands held out before him as if he wanted to shake the information into the redhead's head.

Hermione sat back and chewed her lip, watching as the pair fought over whether or not Harry's dragon was due to a blow to the head from the Slytherin Prince. Her fingers twisted and tugged at the hem of the shirt she wore as her mind chased the facts around in a circle. "Malfoy was playing a flute?" She broke out suddenly, interrupting the beginnings of a loud debate on whether Malfoy could hit Harry hard enough to actually cause him brain damage.

"Yes, a silver one. He seemed to recognize the music in the journal too." He internally groaned as he remembered the blond had his ancestor's journal. His only happy thought that the book could only be opened with his blood. The look on Hermione's face was confusing. As if she had finished a puzzle but found it didn't quite match the picture on the box.

"Ron, did you bring that book that I gave you for your birthday?" Hermione asked sharply, her narrowed eyes jerking from the raven-haired wizard to the redhead.

Ron's face reddened and he dropped his gaze to stare at the toes of his boots. "Uh, sure. I was going to read it in my spare time." He lied neatly, grinning as the witch sighed and shook her head at his response.

"Go and get it, please." Hermione said, her gaze turning back to Harry. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and curled her hands into fists. The pair sat silently, neither saying anything as they waited for Ron to return.

When the redhead came puffing back into the room moments later, he found Hermione and Harry staring at hin intently, neither speaking. "Sorry, it was under some magazines at the bottom of my trunk." He muttered, offering the book to Hermione but handing it to Harry when the brown hair witch indicated she didn't want to see it.

Harry accepted the book and looked at the cover before beginning to turn the pages. Introductory chapters spoke about the history and place of dragons within wizarding society. The power and respect they had earned through their violent behaviour and murderous rampages. Flipping quickly, he looked at Hermione who was staring patiently at the book in his hands. He stopped in mid turn and smoothed a hand over the page he had opened. Small pictures of dragons were lined neatly across the paper, words recorded neatly below the still images.

"Do you see anything similar to the dragon that was in the Music Room?" Hermione questioned, leaning further over the book and eyeing the images curiously.

Harry held the book closer to his face and searched each image carefully. Trying to recall each detail of the music room dragon without getting caught up in the beauty and elegance of the dragons portrayed in the book.

His eyes landed on one image and stayed there. The dragon was smaller then most of those shown, its wings arched and head lowered while small fangs glittered as it hissed at an invisible foe. The scales along its body were a deep gold, fading to brown before turning completely black. "This one." He whispered, finger tapping the image.

Ron dragged the book into his own lap and stared at the picture. His lips moved as he read the creatures breed before flipping to the index. The whirl and slap of pages striking against each other was the only sound as the three sat quietly. "The Sandtongue. An Egyptian Mage Dragon."

Hermione hissed softly, eyes drifting closed for a moment before they popped back open. Standing quickly, she gathered her stuff and looked back and forth between Harry and Ron. "I have to go to the library and research something. Don't be late for class." She reminded them over her shoulder, already half way out the portrait hole.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched his friend retreat. She knew something and hadn't told them. Sighing loudly, he turned back to Ron and gestured for him to continue reading the passage. His eyes moved to the still photo on the upper half of the page. Five dragons all glared at the photographer, each holding their wings in a threatening position. The arch of their slender tails and the hooks on the end of their muzzle a clear warning of the damage they could do if they felt they were in danger.

"The Sandtongue Dragon generally lived in small clans or groups consisting of anywhere between ten and twenty-three adults. They were the smallest breed of the Mage Dragon, never getting any taller then a small horse. Their gold scales were one of their greatest protective features, allowing them to vanish in the desert but making them easily visible in the sky. Home ranges were extensive and often fought over by the dominant males. The main indicators of the dominant pair within a clan were the horns or hooks on their muzzles. The longer and darker the horn, the more powerful the dragon. Studies found that the Sandtongue had a longer then usual tongue which was coated in a poisonous saliva. This saliva was used when fighting off larger dragons or predators attempting to rob the nursery." Ron nodded in approval of the last part, glancing at Harry with a raised eyebrow. "Not exactly something you wanna run into in the dark, is it?

Harry grinned and shook his head in agreement before turning his attention back to the picture. The dragon had indeed been a Sandtongue. The colouring and size alone was enough proof of that but if all the Mages were extinct, how could this one have managed to break a window in the music room? Rubbing his forehead against the headache he felt coming on, he grabbed his school bag and rolled his eyes at Ron. The redhead looked at the clock hanging on the wall before grumbling under his breath and picking up his own bag. Lost in their thoughts, they headed off to class.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. Next chapter. . . well let's just say it's gonna be a confusing ball of clues hastily tied together which shall lead to the truth of the journal and the name of the flute. HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!

fragonknight01 - lol, you never know. Draco might wanna keep the journal just to rub it in Harry's face every now and then.  
Kasmo - Hopefully I manage to answer all your questions in one shot. Raveana's green eyes will be explained in a future chapter so I won't be showing that card yet nor will I say what Raveana's exact intentions are. Partly because I haven't decided yet and partly because I want it to be a surprise. The dreams do come from Raveana, maybe not necessarily by choice but due to the appearance and proximity of the journal and the flute. Draco's awakening and calling of the Mage Dragons was unintentional but they answered anyway. This may have been because it was the first time the flute was played so well in so long or merely because it was simply time. I think the Dragons will recognize both wizards when the time comes.


	9. Raveana Draconis and the Dragon's Maw

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Eight - Raveana Draconis and the Dragon's Maw**

Blaise swept into the library quickly, bestowing an innocent smile on the glaring librarian. The grin fell from his face as he swept between the shelves, eyes traversing the spines and signs marking the different sections. His fingers twitched as he spun down a row and halted abruptly.

Hermione Granger regarded him from the other end of the small corridor, her eyes narrowing at his sudden appearance. Both glanced from each other to the dusty collection of books resting forgotten on a low shelf.

Giving an arrogant nod in greeting, he glided forward and dropped to one knee in front of the books. He licked his lips as he read over the titles adorning the spines, a gasp of relief escaping him as he found the book he was searching for. His fingers froze above the tome as a shadow fell over him.

"Excuse me." Hermione purred sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him as her ink-stained digits hovered over a book resting several shelves up. The darting of her orbs to the book he was almost holding had him internally wincing and moving his hand slightly to rest over the tome next to it.

"No problem." He lied grimly, locking his fingers around both books and pulling them from their places. Straightening, he stared into her blank eyes for a second before offering a chilling smile and nodding his head in farewell. As he stalked around her, he made sure to keep the first book hidden beneath the second, crossing his fingers his actions had gone unnoticed. "See you in class."

"Later." The Gryffindor witch replied absently, her gaze already resting on the row of books he had abandoned.

Shaking his head in anger, Blaise stormed toward the librarian's desk. The elderly witch shot him a warning look when he slammed the tomes down in front of her, eyebrows arching when she read the title of the second book. "Good morning." He offered suavely, tugging gently on the sleeve of his robe.

"Good morning, Mister Zabini. Doing a little research?"Mrs. Pince asked, recording the name of the book and several other facts. Sixth and seventh years were allotted the privilege of removing books from the library for short periods of time due to their increased class schedules and workload. This new rule had been enacted after several Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh years had gotten into a fight which led to the destruction of several hundred books, some of which were irreplaceable.

"New hobby." Blaise returned calmly, glancing at the clock to see how much longer he had before class started.

"Ah, well be sure to take care of these books." She murmured, patting the cover of one of the books lovingly. Blaise gritted his teeth in a parody of a smile, her words reminding him of the tome now resting in the bottom of his desk drawer.

Smiling in thanks, he accepted the books and fled the cavernous room. He glanced over his shoulder as he pushed the door open, managing to catch a last look at the Gryffindor witch watching him from the shadows of one of the shelves. Smirking, he slid the books into his bag and made his way to class.

XxXxX

Blaise sat down across from Draco at the Slytherin table. His eyes flew over the vast array of food presented for their lunch before darting to Draco. The blond was eyeing him with a concerned look, one of his hands wrapped around the base of his cup. Hauling his bag into his lap, he rifled through its contents and drew forth one of the books he'd borrowed from the library "The Dragon's Maw." He muttered, finger stabbing the cover as he dropped it in front of Draco. He shook his head when the blond arched an eyebrow and stared doubtfully down at the cover.

"The what?" Draco mumbled, placing the tips of his fingers on the book and spinning it around on the dark wooded table. He glanced at the Gryffindor table, noting the narrowed emerald eyes focused intently on him. Curling his lip, he returned his attention to the wizard staring blankly at him.

"The Dragon's Maw. The DM etched into the flute stands for Dragon's Maw." He explained, sliding forward on the bench and gesturing at the book. Grabbing an empty cup, he dragged a pitcher of juice closer and poured himself a glass.

Draco's face brightened in interest as he flipped the book open. His lips moved as he read the table of contents. Pale eyes widened and the book was closed slowly, gaze rising to meet the dark-haired wizard's sitting across from him. "What can you tell me?"

"The flute was designed and created in the late thirteen hundreds. It was originally crafted for an Egyptian wizard who wanted to tame the Mage Dragons. Apparently he believed they could be tamed and used for battle. His theory was wrong and the flute got passed around to various individuals and collectors over the next few centuries." Blaise stated, glancing up as Pansy flopped down next to him unceremoniously. She sighed heavily and grabbed his cup of juice without bothering to ask. "That was mine."

"Thirsty, sorry." She responded, handing him the empty cup and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "What are you looking at?"

"The flute Draco took. It's called the Dragon's Maw. It was crafted to summon Mage Dragons to the player and holder of the flute. However, merely holding it doesn't guarantee the wielder control of the dragons. This was a frequently made mistake by the people who took possession of the flute." Informed Blaise, smirking as Draco chuckled at the irony of it.

"You're saying they forgot that they couldn't control the dragons? How stupid." Pansy commented, refilling Blaise's cup. She shrugged her shoulders as the wizards shot her questioning looks. "I'm just saying it doesn't seem very bright to me."

"Yes well, it disappeared for a couple of centuries. During the period of time the flute wasn't in use, the Mage Dragons resumed the life style of dragons. They killed, ate, and did whatever they wanted while keeping a safe distance from both muggle and wizarding communities." Blaise said, reaching over and grabbing the book sitting forgotten on the table. He flipped it open and flicked through the pages before pausing and settling it back in the center of the table. The black and white picture depicted a group of large dragons lazing on several cliffs surrounded by long green grass. However, the trees swaying in the background were barren of leaves, their branches covered in ice and snow.

"Of course their ability to do magic made them quite powerful. The demand for their blood and scales skyrocketed as new potions were developed and alchemy became a larger area of study. Everyone wanted to use the more powerful Mage blood to enhance and increase their potions strength." The book was again pulled away and the pages flipped quickly. Pansy let out a gasp of shock as her eyes glided over the list of mage parts and their selling price in the late fourteenth century.

"Because of their ability to do magic, the Mage was often put on par with us, which made it illegal to kill or hunt them. Anyway, in the mid fifteenth century a debate was brought before the council concerning the Mage Dragons. It was presented that their presence within the world might give the wizarding community away to the muggles. It was turned down but a new document concerning the equality rights and what creatures were considered equals and free thinking beings surfaced several months later. This document stated that Mage Dragons had no rights because they couldn't interpret right from wrong and therefore voided all rights to protection by law." Blaise whispered, leaning further over the table so the students sitting around them wouldn't be able to hear.

"It was granted." Draco said in understanding, straightening in his chair and closing the book with a thud. He glared down at the cover for an angered moment, closing his eyes on the realization his family had probably played a large part in the extinction of the entire species.

Blaise gave a firm nod of his head. Picking the book up, he put in back into his bag and pulled the draw string tight. "The flute reappeared in fifteen-sixty-nine. It was held by a witch named Raveana Draconis. She vanished mysteriously several years later with the destruction of the last Mage Dragon. The Dragon's Maw disappeared with her. It was said she called the dragons to her in an effort to protect them. That she might have succeeded if it weren't for the law stating they all had to be killed. The final part of the rumour was that she could control them."

"You mean a witch succeeded where all those wizards failed?" Pansy asked smugly, putting her nose in the air.

Blaise laughed dryly and shook his head. "It was also rumoured her disappearance was due to the fact she'd been eaten by one of the dragons she was attempting to protect. No one really knows what happened to her - or her flute."

"How did my father get hold of it?" Draco asked softly, eyes moving back to the Gryffindor table where the golden trio was just beginning to stir.

"That's the question I want answered." Blaise replied, picking his bag up and making to leave the Great Hall. His gaze was caught and arrested by Hermione's knowing eyes, the look on her face stating she knew something more then he did.

XxXxX

"Raveana Draconis!" Hermione snapped loudly, dropping a book on Harry's desk. She whirled around and planted her hands on her hips as she paced slowly between the beds. The startled looks on Harry and Ron's face told her they had no idea what she was talking about. "Open the book, Harry."

Rolling his eyes at the command, Harry walked to his desk and flopped down into the uncomfortable wooden chair. Pushing aside some used pieces of parchment, he slid a finger under the stiff cover and flipped it open. A pair of startling green eyes stared up at him from a still picture. "Where'd you get this?" He demanded, finger smoothing over the image. The witch was standing next to a large gray horse, one hand resting lightly on his flank. An attempt had been made to calm the mass of black curls falling over her shoulders, a silver ribbon caught amidst the strands.

"The library." Hermione muttered, casting her gaze heavenward and shaking her head before moving to look over Harry's shoulder. The resemblance between the pair was shocking. They would both be approximately the same height, their hair the same colour and texture. Most likely untamable. Brushing aside Harry's fingers, she flipped expertly to a picture further in and stopped.

Sitting before a massive brick fireplace, five individuals had been carefully posed. An older blond witch sat in a chair of blue silk. Gold curls cascading over her shoulder as she stared at the artist with wide blue eyes. Standing behind her, a wizard with dark curls glared through angry brown eyes, fingers resting on his wife's shoulder. Three children knelt around their mother's knees. All had bright blue eyes and cheerful smiles. Two bore golden curls while the third a twisting mass of black hair.

"They all have blue eyes." Harry mumbled, raising a hand and rubbing the side of his head in confusion. His eyes dropped to the words scribbled below the image, his mouth falling open in awe.

"Yet they're related to you." Hermione whispered softly, moving aside so Ron could peer at the picture. "The Potter's of the fifteenth century: Melinda, Corace, Geneva, Merna, and Raveana."

"You said 'Draconis'!" Harry accused, his gaze still locked on the picture of his family ancestors. Shaking his head in confusion, he flipped back to the first page and stared into the emerald eyes gazing up at him.

"Raveana Potter was disowned in approximately fifteen-sixty-seven due to a belief she had. She proclaimed the wizarding council was wrong to condemn the Mage Dragons to death. She made a very public display on the matter and was quickly abandoned by her family. In her anger, she cast aside the name Potter and took one she felt fitting." Hermione explained, flipping to another page and pointing out a paragraph. Her fingers drummed against the table as the wizards skimmed the short narrative.

"She was married?" Harry questioned, eyes darting up to meet Hermione's. He vaguely recalled the gold band that had been visible on the hand resting upon the horse's flank.

Smirking with pleasure over the reaction she knew she was about to receive, she nodded slowly. "Engaged, actually. The Malfoys broke it off after she was disowned. Apparently she didn't fit their ideals. There was also the fact her fiancé was one of the most renowned dragon hunters."

Ron's mouth fell open and a small squeak emerged as he stumbled backwards and collapsed on his bed. "Malfoy? She was engaged to a Malfoy? A Potter and a Malfoy?" He garbled, blinking as he looked back and forth between the pair for assistance.

"Yes, one Reginald Malfoy. Upon his coat of arms, a wolf was painted." Hermione said quietly, "It was white."

"My dream," Harry whispered in understanding. "Raveana was trying to save them while Reginald was trying to kill them."

"Exactly, Raveana however possessed a flute called the Dragon's Maw. It was written that she was one of the best flutists of that period, writing much of her own music. The Dragon's Maw had been used in the past to call the Mage Dragons forth. Raveana was summoning them onto her lands where she could protect them." Hermione stated, glancing away from Ron to look at Harry. He appeared to be engrossed in the book. Eyes skimming over paragraphs and peering closely at pictures and diagrams scattered throughout the book.

"What happened to her then? If she was protecting them, how did they manage to become extinct?" Harry asked, closing the book and turning around in his chair. His hand remained upon the text, a strangely protective gesture.

"She disappeared. There's a section in the back of the book considering different theories and rumours but nothing was ever proven. Experts said it was like she just vanished, which could have been possible. I mean, stranger things have happened, right?" Hermione gave Harry a hesitant smile and ran her fingers through his hair with a sigh. "One of the more prominent whispers was that she had been killed by Reginald in a final battle over the Mage Dragons, but once again that theory lacked proof. Until last night.

"Malfoy has her flute." Harry hissed in excitement, fingers clenching around the back of the chair. He darted a look back and forth between the pair before the realization hit him. "He did kill her. He killed her for the flute."

"It's hard to say, Harry." Hermione whispered, the glow in her eyes dimming as the raven-haired wizard stared sadly up at her. Shaking her head, she sat down on the bed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Placing the other around Ron's neck and dragging him closer in a stranglehold.

Harry slumped weakly in the chair, glad for the comforting presence of his friends as he mourned the death of a woman he had never met, yet felt closer too then anyone else. "We have to get the journal and flute from Malfoy."

"It could already be to late for that. Last night's incident makes it obvious he has played the flute. The fact that a Mage actually answered is slightly scary. Consider how strong and powerful he must have grown over the years. There must be more. If one survived the hunt, so did others." She said, arms tightening for a moment. Slowly letting go, she shifted and looked out the window at the darkening sky.

"I'm not about to let him kill off what could be the last Mage Dragon, Hermione." Harry hissed stiffly, promise hinting every word of his statement. Closing her eyes, she smiled smugly as Harry found yet another new purpose.

"Good, Harry. You do what you have to and know Ron and I will help you, you only have to ask. Now, we have to go finish our last night of detention so we'll see you later." Hermione announced, giving the wizard a final pat on the shoulder and dragging Ron to his feet.

"A Potter engaged to a Malfoy." Ron mumbled, heading towards the door without saying goodbye or waiting for Hermione.

Rolling her eyes, she chased after him, pausing in the doorway and looking back at Harry's still form. "Harry. Malfoy may have called the mage dragons here, but he hasn't shown that he has any control over them. Remember that."

Harry nodded as he watched the witch vanish from the doorway. Turning back to his desk, he opened the book and looked into ethereal green eyes. Silently, he promised to finish the job she had begun so long ago.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. I wish everyone a Happy New Year and hope to see you in 2007.

Kasmo - Not all Mage Dragons are small, merely the Sandtongue. In the prologue I introduced the dragon from chapter 6, however I have also introduced two other dragons: Blue Knight and Scarlet King. These dragons would have been a completely different breed of Mage Dragon, making them larger then the Sandtongue and more colourful.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - lol, I imagine there are quite a few breeds of Mage Dragons. Feel free to make up your own and send me the details and I can probably fit it in here somewhere. Just give me a breed name, colour, etc.  
firedragon-luver - lol, it'll take them just a little longer.  
Wizli - Hermione and Blaise are still a little worried about the intentions of each other. An event that shall occur in the next chapter will definitely force them to work together.


	10. Dragons on the Pitch

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/N: The Siberian Shade and Icefang belong to the wonderful Ember Ice and I thank her for allowing me to use her magnificent creations.

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Chapter Nine - Dragons on the Pitch**

Harry stood on the edge of a precipice, his eyes locked on the churning aqua waters below him. Blinking slowly, he raised his chin and stared at the pale blue sky marred only by the fluffy clouds floating along the horizon. A warm wind tugged at his hair and rustled the long grasses growing along the cliff's edge. Inhaling the strong smell of salt, he raised a hand and shaded his emerald orbs.

Over the broiling surf, two large dragons sliced the air cleanly, wings flaring and flicking without falter. The pair circled and dipped, each movement mirrored by the other in a winding dance almost impossible to follow. Scales glittered a myriad of colours as the pair skimmed along the ocean's surface, forelegs cutting the water effortlessly. With a shrill screech, the darker shot upward, her wings beating tenaciously. Flashing long fangs, the second and smaller followed quickly. Their bodies skimmed ever closer as they circled higher, spiraling till they were mere dots against the blue sky. Then they fell, closing their wings and plummeting straight into the broiling surf only to reemerge shaking water from crest and tail.

The loud rustle of cloth caught by the wind had him turning his head. She stood beside him and stared out at the rolling waves, eyes narrowed against the light reflecting off the water. When she turned to meet his gaze, he found himself staring into glistening emeralds. Small flecks of blue rose to the surface only to be consumed by the dark green seconds later. The red skirts of her dress brushed against his pajama clad legs, making him frown.

"What's going on?" He whispered quietly, running a hand over his forehead and rubbing the lightening-bolt shaped scar absently. Her eyes drifted to the mark on his forehead, a slender hand rising as if to touch the old wound. In her fingers she held the silver flute, the metal shining under the bright sunlight. "What are you trying to tell me?"

Her gaze flicked back to his before the raised hand swung and pointed out at the dragons floating above the ocean. "They come." Raveana murmured, her voice filled with promise. Emerald orbs twinkled happily as they returned to his. Offering him a grim smile, she pushed him off the cliff.

XxXxX

Harry sat up, chest heaving as he looked into Ron's blue eyes. Running a hand over his forehead, he grimaced as his fingers brushed back his sweat dampened bangs. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before flopping back down on his bed.

Arching a brow in question, the redhead offered Harry his glasses. "You okay?" He asked, settling himself on the edge of Harry's bed. In his hands he held a shirt, fingers rubbing the cloth absently.

Nodding, Harry sighed and accepted his glasses. Sliding them on, he stared at the canopy of his bed while organizing his thoughts. "She pushed me off a cliff." He murmured in shock, meeting Ron's gaze with something akin to amazement.

"Who did what?" Ron questioned, resting a hand on Harry's forehead. Frowning in concentration, he sat back and nodded firmly. "You're not sick." He announced with a smile, jamming the red and gold Quidditch jersey into his friend's hands.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled in confusion, looking at the uniform before groaning in understanding. "We play Slytherin today, don't we?"

"Yep, big game. So get up! We should be running some practice drills right now." Ron ordered, standing and grabbing his own uniform off his bed. He raised an eyebrow as Harry continued to lie on his bed, jersey held loosely in his hands. "Come on, Harry."

"You go ahead, I'll be down in a few minutes. We'll discuss battle tactics then." Harry stated, watching as Ron skipped from the room, Quidditch shirt draped over his shoulders. Closing his eyes again, Harry groaned and rolled over. "She pushed me off a cliff." He mumbled into his pillow, dragging red blankets over his head. Moaning softly, he locked his fingers around the edge of his pillow and thought about going back to sleep. Loud cheering from downstairs had him sitting up and rolling his eyes.

"I'm going to bed after the game," he said to the room at large, "and I'm not getting up till dinner tomorrow." Nodding in affirmation of his goal, he crawled out of bed and stalked downstairs to join the pregame celebration.

XxXxX

Draco stood in the empty Slytherin dressing room, staring into the mirror hanging in his locker. His fingers toyed with the silver chain he wore around his neck, playing absently with the small charm swinging at its apex. The light shone on the small flute, making him smile. Dropping the shrunken instrument, he reached into his locker and pulled out the black broom propped in the corner. The clatter of boots turned his head, pausing him in the examination of his broom.

"Draco." Blaise said in greeting as he popped his head around the doorframe. Looking around, the dark-haired wizard nodded and swung the door all the way open, leading Pansy into the room.

"We came to wish you good luck." Pansy said, eyes narrowing on the necklace he wore. Extending her fingers to capture the dangling charm, she glared at the blond as her hand was slapped away.

"Don't touch it." Draco muttered, turning around to face his locker. Running a smoothing hand over his pale hair, he nodded his head and smirked smugly at his image. Tucking the chain under his uniform, he pulled his broom from his locker and slammed the door closed.

"Please tell my why you insist on carrying that thing with you?" Blaise asked quietly, flopping down onto one of the wooden benches and propping his feet up on another. He crossed his arms over his chest as Draco sat down beside him and laid his broom across his lap.

"It's good luck." The blond mumbled, fingers caressing the dark shaft of his broom. His pale eyes were narrowed on the wooden handle, hands searching for any sign of foul play or damage from practice.

Blaise closed his eyes in exasperation, rubbing his temples with the fingers of his right hand. "You haven't had it long enough to know whether it's lucky or not. And as far as I'm concerned it's bad luck. The dragons are looking for that thing and so is Potter. You're only tempting fate in wearing it openly." The wizard said, opening his dark eyes and staring at Draco as the blond shrugged his shoulders in indifference. "I really don't know whose going to get you first, Potter or the dragons."

Snorting, Draco stood and stretched. Swinging his broom up over his shoulder, he walked toward the door leading out into the hall that opened onto the pitch. "Potter doesn't stand a chance." He snarled, raising a hand and pushing through the door.

"Good luck!" Pansy called at his back, waving goodbye merrily.

Blaise's brow drew down as he glanced at the Slytherin witch. "Come on." He muttered, grabbing her hand and dragging her from the change room.

XxXxX

Draco strolled onto the pitch and glanced around. The Slytherin Beaters and Chasers circled the pitch, brooms slicing easily through the air as they tossed a practice Quaffle. Smiling, Draco mounted his broom and flew into the sky amidst the cheers and fanfare from the Slytherin stands. Joining his flying teammates, the blond dipped and dove as he warmed up for the coming game. Pausing to look over the field, his eyes met angry emeralds. The Gryffindor dropped his gaze to Draco's neck, eyes narrowing on the flash of silver sparkling against pale flesh.

Grinning, Draco made a show of adjusting his jersey so the chain was completely concealed. Flipping the angered raven-haired wizard off, Draco dropped down to hover above the perfectly manicured lawn, his full attention on Madam Hooch.

Waving the two teams in, the referee glared at each of them tight-lipped, hands planted on her hips. "I want a clean game this time." She called loudly, having to holler in order to be heard over the screaming students in the stands. Shaking her head as the Slytherins smirked, she picked up the Quaffle and flung it skyward, blowing her whistle to begin the game.

Players shot in every direction, Bludgers already screaming through the air. Skimming along the ground, Harry gave Ron a thumb up before climbing higher in the sky. A flash of silver and green drew his gaze and had him sneering as Malfoy shot by him. "You're mine, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, at the Slytherin's retreating back.

"Bring it on, Potter!" Malfoy yelled over his shoulder, smiling smugly as he drew to a halt several feet above his team's goals. Glaring across the pitch at the angered Gryffindor, he raised his hand and rubbed the lump the small flute made in his jersey in a silent taunt. The tightening of the Gryffindor's lips had him chuckling softly before raising his eyes to the cloudy sky above him and beginning his hunt.

XxXxX

Harry circled higher on his broom, eyes searching the darkening sky above him. Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, forewarning the brewing storm advancing slowly. The first drop of rain splattered against the lenses of his glasses, making him sigh in regret. Raising his hand and wiping the glass with the cuff of his Quidditch jersey, he froze when a dancing ball of gold shot beneath him. Swearing softly, he swung the tip of his broom around and hurtled after the snitch. The winged ball dropped toward the ground quickly, zipping between the Chasers and Beaters without pause.

Gritting his teeth as the grass of the pitch grew ever closer, he locked his eyes on the snitch. Circling teasingly above the earth, the small ball danced back and forth before shooting down the pitch and vanishing. Groaning over the momentary loss, Harry drifted slowly upwards. A flash of black had him flattening himself against the handle of his broom, watching with narrowed eyes as the Bludger continued its path.

Swinging around in anger, he glared at the Slytherin Beater. Smirking, the green and silver cloaked player waved his paddle at Harry before shooting off after the Gryffindor chasers.

A flash of pale hair had Harry whipping after Draco as the blond shot toward the overcast sky. Chest pressed close to the shaft of his broom, he locked his fingers and pushed his broom to a greater speed.

The Slytherin looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Harry, fingers reaching for the snitch still beyond his grasp. "Can't keep up, Scarhead?" Draco hollered, fingers of one hand clutching the broom he straddled as the other flexed in preparation for grabbing the snitch. He shot into the fluffy white storm clouds without thought, hand swinging recklessly above his head.

"Right behind you, Ferret!" Harry bellowed in warning, a strong gust of wind forcing the tip of broom skyward. He grinned fiercely as he slammed his shoulder into Draco's, knocking the other wizard off course. Rain pelted down upon them suddenly, the drops stinging with the force of their speed. A crack of lightening drew both their gazes, giving the snitch the chance it needed to disappear.

Swearing, Harry halted his flight and looked around. Several meters away, Draco stopped and hovered while glancing disdainfully around him. Water dripped off the tip of Harry's nose, making him swipe at the drop while searching the surrounding sky. Thunder screamed angrily, the resounding boom causing Draco to jump.

Snickering at the blond's fear, Harry glanced up and narrowed his eyes at the shimmer of gold among white. His mouth fell open as the small ball seemed to grow in length, stretching out over his head. The transparent cloud solidified suddenly, long gold talons grabbing recklessly at him.

Yelping in fear, he dodged and rolled under the clutching claws. The white dragon rumbled in outrage as Harry maneuvered from his path, flaring wings edged in gold. Staring in open-mouthed shock, Harry watched as the Mage vanished seamlessly back into the clouds. Swallowing, he looked around quickly before pointing the tip of his broom downward and diving toward the safety of the school.

A piercing shriek had him slowing his descent and looking up. Draco shot by him without slowing, the silver cloak he wore slapping Harry in the face. Shaking the pain-inflicted stupor off, he looked up and found himself staring into the gaping jaws of a second dragon. Jerking on the shaft of his broom, he swung to the left in hopes of avoiding the large animal. In a liquid maneuver, the dragon tucked black and silver wings and followed easily.

Spinning into a dive, he hissed in relief as the brilliant green of the pitch appeared before his rain-blurred gaze. In the stands, students screamed and pointed at him, causing Harry to look over his shoulder and meet the malicious gaze of the dragon trailing him. Silver eyes shone with pleasure as she snapped at the trailing end of his cloak, lips drawn back to reveal long fangs.

Eyes widening, he shot toward the ground, yanking the handle of his broom up at the last minute to avoid slamming into the soggy pitch. The dragon flared her wings and swung her head around as she soared past him, choosing height over collision.

Players were screaming and shooting around the pitch, not knowing whether they should stop playing or continue despite the pair of dragons circling lazily above them. Teachers were clambering down from the stands, waving their wands and yelling at the students.

Harry hovered above the grass, looking around at the chaos caused by the pair of Mage Dragons. In a moment of comprehension he remembered Raveana's whispered words. They come, she had said, pointing at the dragons dancing above the heaving ocean. They had indeed come, Harry thought, following the animals slow movements as they floated above the Quidditch pitch.

The black tucked her wings neatly, mouth opening in a roar that blended with the booming thunder. She fell toward the pitch, forelegs outstretched as she sought to grab her unknowing prey. Harry followed the dragon's path and grimaced as he saw Draco running across the pitch, hands waving wildly in front of him as he fled the dark dragon. Screeching in glee, the black flared her wings and grabbed at Draco. The brush of her talons sending him tumbling to the ground and rolling through the mud.

A blur of white and gold collided with the black and silver dragon, the pair tumbling to the ground and skidding through the muck. Talons raked and fangs tore in anger, leaving lines of blood in their path. Hissing in warning, the white dragon wiggled free of the black's grasp, opening his large wings and growling as he gave a liquid hop backwards. Snarling and snapping, the pair glared at each other, wings arched in threat.

Harry heard Ron screaming his name and looked over his shoulder, meeting the redhead's frantic gaze. The Gryffindor team stood before the entrance to their change rooms, waving their hands to try and get Harry to fly toward them.

The thunder of a dragon's cry had him jerking his gaze back toward the squabbling pair and Draco. Crawling across the grass, the blond was watching anxiously over his shoulder while making his way toward the line of teachers standing nervously upon the grass.

Rumbling, the white dragon flipped his wings and leapt into the air suddenly. Hovering close to the ground, he dipped forward and snatched the Slytherin from the grass. Ignoring Malfoy's squeal of fright, the animal flapped its wings hard. Shrieking in triumph, the white dragon shot up into the sky. Colourful charms and hexes slammed into his flanks, splattering along his white scales before dissipating. With one final flap of his wings, he vanished among the pale clouds, precious cargo held tightly to his chest.

Harry glanced in open-mouthed shock at the teachers, noticing the stunned expressions on their faces. Wands were held loosely in their fingers as they searched the sky, forgetting the larger black dragon still sitting in the middle of the pitch. Hearing Ron bellow his name, he looked over his shoulder and shook his head before aiming his broom at the cloudy sky.

Rain bit at his exposed skin as he hurtled into the clouds, his shouted name ringing in his ears. Gritting his teeth, he floated slowly into the mass of white, searching for a flash of gold. "Malfoy!" He called loudly, praying to Merlin that the fact the blond had possession of the flute would stop the dragon from eating him. Sheet lightening lit the sky, causing his hair to stand on end. Gliding forward nervously, he narrowed his eyes and peered around.

The whisper of gold among white had him pushing his broom forward and darting after the quickly moving cloud. A flick of gold tipped wings revealed the white dragon's position, ruining his attempt at camouflage. Smirking over the small victory, Harry chased after the dragon. Hollering taunts and empty threats at the animal, he circled before its jaws and waved his arms. Blue eyes rolled to follow his motions but the dragon remained oblivious to his taunts, wings rising and falling slowly.

A thunderous roar had Harry glancing downward and moaning as the black dragon flew into view. The animal shrieked in warning, tail lashing the air as she climbed. Silver talons swiped angrily, forcing the white dragon to roll sharply in order to avoid the swinging claws. Gold filled Harry's vision before the smaller dragon's tail connected with his broom, sending him cart wheeling into the clouds.

Screaming, Harry was thrown loose of his broom. His arms swung as he tried to slow his fall, fear rising as his speed increased. Below him, the Quidditch pitch and stands came into view and continued to approach quickly. Life flashing before his eyes, he was unprepared for the sudden force that slammed into him from above. Claws bit into his skin as he was hauled up and pinned to the dragon's heaving chest. Black scales were warm to the touch, the dragon's heart beating steadily against his back. Wrapping his arms around one of the silver talons, he tucked himself against the dragon and sighed as the creature opened long wings and swept over the grass.

The teachers startled faces flashed through his line of sight before vanishing behind the dragon. Roaring in victory, the animal flapped its silver edged wings and shot skyward. Thunder boomed and lightening crashed around them as they slipped into the clouds. Rain hissed upon the Mage's scales, evaporating upon contact.

Shivering from the cold, Harry pressed his back against the dragon's chest and looked around. Beyond the silver tipped wings, lines of gold rose and fell continuously, alerting him to the presence of the white dragon.

Humming quietly, the black dragon tightened her grip on him and aimed her silver muzzle in the direction of home. Tucked firmly against the dragon's warm chest, Harry allowed himself to be lulled by the warmth and rhythmic beat of the Mage Dragon's heart.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. I hope everyone had an excellent New Year's Eve and wish you all the best in the year 2007.

zafaran – Draco and Harry will probably eventually see the light and join forces to protect the remaining Mage Dragons. I haven't really got around to planning either Lucius' or Voldemort's role in this story but I feel both shall be making an appearance in the near future. As for the Sandtongues, I believe with the right leadership they will learn what's right and wrong.  
wizli – It was time, I couldn't control myself. Harry's appearance and relationship with Raveana will play a major role the next few chapters.  
Ember Ice – Thank you very much for your lovely contributions. However, you forgot to give me their names! I have their breed but not what you want them to be called. I'll need this info soon, so if you could christen these two lovely beasts that would be great.  
IvySnowe – Writing the Malfoy/Potter history was fun. Harry and Draco will eventually work this out, but as always, it will take time.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – I love being able to incorporate my ideas with my reviewers. It adds a bit of a challenge as well as making it more fun. By the end of this story, I'll have introduced a total of 10 or 11 dragons. So far I've created three and Ember Ice gave me two of her babies to play with (the Icefang and the Siberian Shade, both introduced in this chapter). When you have your dragon, send him/her to me and I'll find a place for him/her.  
kasmo – Harry and Draco will work something out. Draco may be willing to teach Harry but how long would he be willing to put up with Harry's efforts? lol


	11. Stolen by Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Ten – Stolen by Dragons**

Harry awoke to the smell of salt in his nose and the screaming of gulls in his ears. Blue water rolled and slammed against the cliffs beneath them, mist spraying into the air with every crash. Gasping at the sudden loosening of the dragon's silver claws, he wrapped his arm around a glistening talon and pressed his back to her chest. As if reminded of his presence, the animal rumbled and hauled him closer to her dark scales.

Under the rays of light, the black scales were lined with small silver streaks, visible only due to his proximity. "Beautiful," he whispered, extending a shaking hand and resting it on the dark animal's crest. Under his touch, the dragon flinched. Muscles tightening in warning.

Withdrawing his intruding hand, he settled it back upon the talon he clung to. A wailing crow that reminded him of distant thunder turned his head. Wings churning hard, the white and gold dragon parted its mouth and bellowed again. Harry cringed at the sound, turning his face into the black dragon's side. The dark dragon's chest vibrated as she snarled a response, long wings slapping down harder then necessary.

The sudden flare of wings and tilting motion had him peering ahead. Standing back from the high cliffs was a dark manor. Sunlight glinted off the remaining panes of glass resting in the window frames. Shingles loosened by strong winds had been ruthlessly torn away and left rafters exposed to the elements. Several outbuildings had toppled due to neglect, stone and wood jumbled together around their foundations.

His mouth fell open as the dragon began her descent, aiming for the high cliffs above the abandoned manor. Lying still upon the precipice, a red dragon raised his head and barked a greeting. His long wings opened slowly, revealing their golden undersides. A flurry of movement from the nearby forest drew Harry's attention, eyes widening as two more dragons slipped from the trees.

Brilliant green scales adorned the smaller, marred only by the line of silver traveling from the tip of her muzzle to the hooked tail sweeping the grass behind her. The larger threw back his head and exposed glistening fangs, his call ringing loudly. Opening blue wings, the male reared back and flapped hard, grasses bending under the rush of air.

The ground rushed by startlingly fast as his dragon began landing preparations.. Her head tipped back suddenly, wind whistling around her wings as she flared and extended her back legs for contact. Harry gasped for breath as he was jolted hard, hands scrambling for anything to hold onto. It was an awkward landing to say the least, the dragon unable to extend her front talons due to her grip on him. Fanning lightly with her silver edged wings, she dropped him before collapsing to all four feet.

Harry hissed as a long talon missed his head by centimeters, rolling quickly in the other direction. The thunder of wings had him freezing and glancing past the black dragon's arched neck. Flaring gold tipped wings, the white dragon came to rest gently upon the ground. His tail slithered along the grass as he used it to maintain his balance, wings opened slightly behind him. A ruffled and fuming Draco was deposited softly upon the waving grass at the beast's feet.

"Malfoy?" Harry called, shifting slowly on the ground. His tentative actions drew the attention of all five dragons, ten shimmering eyes locked on him. Closing his own orbs, he lowered himself to the ground and waited to be eaten

"This is all your fault, Potter!" Draco raged, climbing to his feet and swiping angrily at his mussed Quidditch robes. His frantic movements caused the silver chain to slip from its hiding spot, the flute swinging gently. The dragons tilted their heads and focused on the small piece of swinging metal, pupils dilating.

"Um, Malfoy? Maybe you sho-"

"Shut up, Scarhead! If your stupid ancestor had let mine kill them we wouldn't have this problem." Draco snapped, planting his hands on his hips and leveling his icy orbs on the raven-haired wizard.

Hissing in outrage, Harry clambered to his feet and rushed toward the blond. Ducking under the black dragon's chin, he threw himself at the other wizard and followed him to the ground. Fists flying in rage, both ignored the hissed grumbles of the dragons watching them in confusion. Drawing back his hand for one final punch to the Slytherin's nose, Harry found himself snatched and hefted by the end of his Quidditch cloak.

His fingers immediately went to the buckle of the dark fabric, scrambling to release the clasp as he gasped for air. Feet kicking desperately, he peered down into the shocked blue eyes of Draco. The blond was waving his hands and screaming loudly, his words lost in the chaos. White spots dancing in his vision, Harry tried to swat at the dragon only to have himself shaken for his efforts.

A snarl of outrage heralded his rescue from the annoyed white dragon. Silver claws wrapped around his waist and tore him free of the gold ones curled through the cloth of his cloak. Inhaling desperately, he set his hand upon the curled talon and met the concerned eye of the black dragon.

"Good girl, good Lady." He wheezed, giving her a hesitant pat as he recovered his breath. Rumbling loudly, the dragon preened before setting him gently to the ground at her feet. Sliding back into the shadow cast by her foreleg, he glared across the span of grass at Malfoy. "This is your fault and we both know it."

"Prove it." Draco snarled from his protected position between the white dragon's golden talons. Raising his hand, Harry gestured at the instrument hanging from the blond's neck. "I dare you to play that flute and see what happens." He said, his raised hand moving to rest on one of his dragon's curled claws.

"No," Draco sniffed, chin going up in true blue blood fashion. "I don't feel like it." That said, he swung around and stalked in the direction of the deserted manor.

"That's what I thought." Harry murmured, rubbing a finger on the shining talon. The crunch of grass turned his head. Moving like liquid, the massive red dragon approached him slowly. His head was held high, golden wings rustling with every step. The other dragon's shifted anxiously, their gazes focused on the kingly dragon currently examining the raven-haired wizard. With a soft snort, the crimson dragon lowered his head so he was on eye level with Harry.

Sinking back against Lady's foreleg, Harry gasped as he met bright emerald eye that resembled his own. Specks of blue swam to the surface of those eyes only to be consumed by the dark green. Jaw gaping, Harry stepped forward and raised a hand. His finger's coasted along the dragon's cheek as he was drawn further into its gaze. Moments passed before he was nudged from behind, the black dragon gaining his attention with the force of her bump. Swinging his wide eyes back around, Harry found himself staring at air. In the distance, the red dragon had settled himself back upon the cliff's edge, swirling emerald orbs searching the horizon.

"Strange," Harry murmured, rubbing the nape of his neck. Shaking his head, he turned and walked in the direction Draco had stormed off in.

XxXxX

Draco stood before the entree of the large manor, wrenching on the handles as he cursed angrily. Hissing in outrage, he kicked the bottom of one of the doors and then grabbed at his injured foot. The soft snicker from behind him had him hopping around and narrowing his eyes at Potter. "Shut up, Potter," he grit out, balancing on one foot while massaging the other gently.

Rolling emerald eyes, the raven-haired wizard climbed the stairs and glided past Draco. As his extended fingers connected with the cold wood, there was a bright flash followed by the dry creak as the portal swung open. Giving the blond a smug look, Harry slid around the door and was consumed by the darkness.

"Um, Potter?" Draco called, glancing around behind him. The rumble and cry of dragons echoed loudly, drifting down from the cliffs they resided upon. Chewing his bottom lip nervously, he took one final look over his shoulder before darting through the door.

The large entrance hall was lit only by the light creeping past dirt-smudged panes. Narrowing his eyes, he made out the distant glow of wand light and sneered. Hands stretched before him, he shuffled slowly in the direction the small glowing ball was headed. His own wand rested at the small of his back, hidden safely should they be attacked by something lurking in the shadows.

"Scarhead?" Draco called as the dancing light vanished around a corner. Hissing under his breath, he continued his silent shuffling step down the hall. Beams of light would brighten his path every now and then, only to be replaced by complete blackness seconds later.

"Gryffindork?" He tried again, rolling his eyes as his voice reverberated down the empty corridor. Mumbling softly, he glanced to the right and froze suddenly. The figure moving along beside him in the portrait halted as well, turning to face him. Skirts swirling out around her, Raveana tipped her head and widened her eyes in question.

"Potter!" Draco screeched, finger leveled at the painting. His back connected with the wall behind him, blue eyes wide as he focused on the witch. The thud of boots coming toward him turned his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Don't be so loud, Malfoy." Harry warned, wand light making his eyes glint devilishly. Shaking his head in exasperation, the raven-haired wizard followed the direction of Draco's pointing finger and stilled. His mouth opened and closed several times before he raised a hand and caressed the frame of the painting she stood in. " Lady Raveana."

The witch nodded once in acceptance of the title, turning back to peer at Draco. Her eyes followed the swinging movement of the flute he wore around his neck, her own instrument appearing in her hand. Her lips moved soundlessly, face shifting as she silently tried to explain something to them. Eyes rolling in frustration as the pair stood there staring at her, she turned and swept from the portrait only to reappear further down the hall.

Harry gave chase without thought, tripping through the darkness in pursuit of the black-cloaked witch. The thunder of their boots shook dust from the rafters and sent small birds nesting in the outer rooms into the sky. Puffing for breath, the pair slid to a stop in front of the witch.

Her arms were folded across her chest as she tapped one foot impatiently. The skirts she wore swung with her rocking motion, shifting back and forth delicately. Holding up one hand, Raveana slowly pointed at the doors across from the portrait she stood in. Before further instruction could be given, she shimmered then vanished completely.

"That was rude." Draco gasped, glancing at Harry only to find himself speaking to empty air. Turning around, he frowned at the dark-haired wizards back. His mouth opened to stop the other wizard as he raised and hand to open one of the doors Raveana had pointed at. As if something had been triggered upon the contact, Draco found himself thrown against the opposite wall with Harry sprawled unconscious across his lap.

Shoving at the still wizard, he froze and glanced up as a low rumble filled the air. Glowing eyes met his and had him whimpering quietly while desperately trying to free himself of Harry's weight. As the click of claws approached, he closed his eyes and attempted to hide behind the raven-haired wizard's body.

XxXxX

Hogwarts was, simply put, in chaos. Students huddled together in small groups, seeking refuge with older and more experienced individuals. Wands were constantly drawn and rolled between tense fingers, the comfort of the wood to strong to resist. The constant hiss of voices rose and fell away, whispers echoing down the long halls.

Ravenclaw Tower was abuzz with gossip and debate. Papers and books had been strewn around the room, blue and black cloaks and scarves forgotten on chairs. The students ignored the clamoring thoughts and questions concerning the welfare of Harry and Draco, focusing upon one of the things they found the most comfort in. Research and learning.

Hufflepuff's clung to each other and wept dramatically, loudly begging the gods for the safe return of their Saviour. Huddled together in their warm, safe common room, they spent the rest of the day telling stories and reminiscing about the deeds of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Slytherin was silent, the snakes searching the faces of their dorm mates. Trying to decide whether the dragon incident was a good thing or a bad thing. Blaise sat on arm of a green chair, his fingers smoothing through Pansy's tangled blonde hair. Closing his eyes, he prayed for his friend's safety then rose fluidly. Clasping his arm around the witch's shoulders, he led her toward the entrance portal. His one and only thought on conversing with the Gryffindor's who most likely knew more then he did.

Gryffindor was quiet; the only sound the soft shuffling of paper and whispered words exchanged between close friends. The Quidditch team still wore their uniforms, mud and water soaking into the couches and carpets they sat upon. Ron blinked as Hermione caught up his hand and pulled him toward the exit, her fingers interlacing with his. In a distant corner of his mind, he wondered where he was being pulled off to but the thought slipped away as he remembered a dragon had just carried his best friend away. Blinking, he trailed listlessly after the witch.

XxXxX

Lucius Malfoy stood in a small room on one of his Manor's upper floors. His hands were locked around the edges of the high table standing before him, head bowed in defeat. The Ever-Lasting candles cast shifting shadows around the empty room, causing the small sapphire to flash in a phantom wink. Heaving out a deep breath, he flipped the lid of the case open and stared at the silver flute resting upon the burgundy bed. His pale fingers slid along the underside of the instrument, searching the flute for the intertwining letters. Smooth metal met his touch.

"What have you done, Draco?" He whispered to the empty room, flipping the box closed and whirling around to face the sheet draped wall. In two long strides he was before the hidden portrait, hands tearing at the fabric.

The cloth fell to the floor slowly, settling upon the tips of his black boots. Flashing emerald eyes met his, a small smile curving the witch's lips. Balled fists slammed into the wall to either side of the frame, rattling the picture on its mooring.

"Do you know what you've done?" He screamed, icy orbs blazing as he glared at the smirking witch. Spittle flew from his mouth and spattered upon the dark waters sloshing silently behind her.

A sleek eyebrow arched before she nodded, black cloak swirling around her lithe body. Giving him one last smug grin, she peered over his shoulder and raised a hand to her mouth. The palm was opened and blown softly on, the ghostly kiss sent to the person occupying the portrait across from her. With that final gesture, she spun around and pulled her flute from her pocket. The room was filled with soft music as she ignored him, each note breaking his attempt at further conversation.

Gritting his teeth in anger, Lucius turned on his heel and stalked toward the wizard sitting silently in the opposite portrait. Clenching his hands, he met eyes of the palest blue and arched an eyebrow in question. The blond wizard shrugged, hands steepled under his chin.

"You're both fools!" He stormed, rubbing a hand down his face and snarling softly. Curling his lips, he wheeled around and shrieked angrily. In a fit of rage, he flipped the table and swore loudly. Breathing heavily, he sent a last look at his ancient relative and fled the room.

The silver flute clattered free of its case, rolling slowly across the floor until it came to rest on the two sheets of parchment Lucius had dropped. Under its cold length, the Hogwart's seal was hidden and the two scrawled words on the second were lit by light refracted off the metal.

_Bring it._

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. I apologize for the short Hogwarts section and any mistakes but I currently have the flu and my brain seems to be a bit scrambled.

tidus4yuna – lol, thank you and I hope you continue to enjoy this story.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – Awesome, your dragons did put make a short appearance in this chapter. I took the liberty of giving you a mated pair, now all you have to do is give me their names.  
DestinyEntwinements – lol, yah, they stole Harry and Draco.  
Darkest-Fire.Blackest-Night – lol, excellent question. I suppose at this time, and after writing the above chapter, that the dragons are fighting over who they should follow. After all, Draco holds the flute but Harry is related to Raveana.  
kasmo – Dumbledore was in his office, probably. However, even if he had been at the game, chances are he wouldn't have been able to do anything as Mage Dragons are highly immune to most forms of magic.  
Liria Nai – Expect Blaise and Hermione to meet and speak about their friends situation in the next chapter.  
Ember Ice – lol, Silverhawk and Black Lady then. The dragons were well described and fit my circumstances perfectly; I thank you very much for allowing me to use them.  
Darklight – Ownership of the dragons is still under debate. I totally agree with the Draco working for himself part though, some people just shouldn't be in the service of others.  
Lady Silverhawk – thank you very much for allowing Ember Ice and myself to use your name, although we did break it up a bit.  
wizli – It was much easier to write from Harry's point of view then it would have been any other way. I had to introduce the dragons while at the same time getting my point across. Kinda glad that's behind me.


	12. A Library of Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Eleven - A Library of Dragons**

Draco narrowed his eyes and stared into the surrounding darkness. His breath hitched in his throat as a low rumble crept from the shadows, the soft sound vibrating the floor beneath him. Sprawled across his lap in an unconscious heap, Harry stirred and moaned softly. The dark-haired wizard's wand lay forgotten on the floor, the faint sphere of light it cast throwing shifting shapes onto the walls. A pair of shimmering orbs snapped into existence beyond the faint glow, gleaming ethereally.

Gritting his teeth, Draco struggled to wiggle from under Harry's weight, eyes locked on the amber globes hovering just within the cover of darkness. "Move, Potter." He hissed softly, fingers buried deep within the red and gold silk of the Gryffindor's Quidditch uniform. He rolled his eyes as the other wizard shifted and rubbed his nose on the green shirt he wore.

Grimacing, the blond began to consider his chances of surviving should he offer the Gryffindor up as a sacrifice. The decision was taken from him as a small black horn breached the light, followed by the sleek golden muzzle of the small Sandtongue.

"Potter, I suggest you get up." Draco snarled, shaking the other wizard forcefully as he found himself under the stare of the little dragon. His hands clutched convulsively on the jersey he held, fingers pressing ruthlessly into hidden flesh.

With a squirm and a groan, Harry came awake. Upon opening his emerald eyes, he found himself under the angered gaze of Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be caught between pushing him away and holding him closer. A deep growl had him freezing and turning his head slowly. "Sandtongue." He whispered, blinking slowly as the dragon dipped its muzzle and hissed. Spittle flew from between dagger like fangs, stinging and burning its way through flesh and cloth.

With a startled oath, Draco shoved Harry off his lap and raised a hand to rub the burning spot on his cheek. His sudden movement had the gold dragon grumbling and lashing its tail, amber eyes following the quick swipe of his pale fingers. "It burns." He murmured in amazement, surprise colouring his words. The heels of his boots slipped on the floor as he tried to push himself backwards while using Harry as an unknowing shield.

"Don't move." Harry ordered quietly, one hand clamping around Draco's thigh to keep him from scuttling backwards. The Sandtongue raised its hooked muzzle and growled, lips curling back to flash teeth swimming in poisonous saliva. Both wizards cringed as a drop of drool slid down a long fang, landing with a soft plop on the toe of the blond's boot.

Opening his mouth on a groan of dismay, Draco found his exclamation muffled by a callused palm. Icy eyes narrowed sharply, temper rising as rough fingernails bit into his cheeks. In a lightening quick movement, he reached up and jerked Harry's hand from his face. "Don't touch me!" He shrieked angrily, cringing as the words ricocheted off the corridor walls.

Harry's entire body tensed as Draco's words faded away, replaced by complete silence. His muscles were just beginning to loosen when the Sandtongue threw back its angular head and roared. Black tipped wings unfurled in an explosion of movement, the soft snap and rustle filling the hall. Pupils dilated and narrowed in a mixture of fear and anger, the small dragon's body shaking with restrained energy. "Be quiet." His soft whisper fell into the lull, drawing the golden eyes to his own shining emeralds.

The dragon's head tipped slowly to the left and her nostrils quivered. Wings scraped along the walls as they were stretched to their limits, closing seconds later in a liquid movement. Fangs vanished smoothly behind gleaming gums, amber eyes focused on Harry. She slid forward silently, neck arched as she sniffled loudly. The tip of her nose bumped the sole of Harry's boot, causing both dragon and wizard to jump.

"What's it doing?" Draco spat into Harry's ear, his fingers clenching in the cloth of the other wizard's jersey. Glaring around the mop of black hair obscuring his vision, he tensed as the dragon crept further up their bodies. "Get it off." He whispered, attempting to pry the Gryffindor's fingers from his thigh.

The Sandtongue swivelled its head and eyed the hands fighting for possession of Draco's thigh. With a deep sigh, the dragon folded her forelegs and settled her head atop Harry's knee. Grumbling softly, she wiggled into a more comfortable position before closing her eyes and stilling.

"Is it sleeping? It can't sleep there!" Draco growled unhappily, glaring at the pony-sized dragon attempting to sleep in Harry's lap. His voice caused the animal's tail to swing out in a slow arc, halting with a thud against the far wall. A creak filled the silence of hall, turning the heads of both wizards.

The warded doors that had landed them in this predicament stood open and inviting, shadows creeping forth. Frowning, Harry extended a hand and took a deep breath before settling his fingers upon the horned muzzle resting in his lap. Under his touch, the dragon hummed and shifted slightly. "Can you reach my wand?" He asked softly, ignoring Draco's grumble of distaste. After several uncomfortable minutes of squirming and swearing, a wand appeared before his eyes.

"It's mine," Draco warned. The grip he had on the wood was telling, there was no way the blond was giving his wand over to his nemesis without first knowing the reason.

Rolling his eyes, Harry made a grab for the wand and came up empty handed. "Unless you want to sit like this for the rest of the night, I suggest you give me the wand." He hissed in exasperation, grabbing the wand when it reappeared in his line of vision. Concentrating, he whispered a spell he had been taught in first year, watching as the golden dragon was lifted from his lap and then set back down on the floor several feet away. As soon as the Sandtongue was curled on the floor, the wand was snatched from his hand and he was shoved away from Draco.

"Don't touch me again, Scarhead." Draco mumbled, standing quickly and running a shaking hand over his muddied pants. He stilled as the gold dragon rumbled in her sleep, rolling over and tucking her head under the edge of a limp wing.

Snorting, Harry scooped up his glowing wand and sneered at Draco. "I'll try and restrain myself." He muttered under his breath, tip toeing toward the doors. He took a quick breath and readied himself before pushing the nearest door open wider. With a drawn out groan, the wood swung inward until the shining handle was consumed by the darkness. The light cast by his wand did nothing to chase the shadows away, the darkness seeming to press closer with every step he took into the room.

Pointing his wand at Harry's back, Draco considered every spell he knew before grimacing and looking down at the slumbering Sandtongue. Perhaps it was best to let sleeping dragons lie. Poking the tip of his wand just past the first door, he whispered Lumos. Candles leapt to life along the walls, flames flickering and growing taller with every step he took into the room. The darkness that had filled the room vanished quickly, replaced by the warmth and crackling of dozens of candles.

"It's a library." Harry exclaimed softly, his voice booming in the vastness of the room. Books filled every available space. They were crammed into the tall shelves and scattered across desks, small piles teetered dangerously next to chairs and piles long since toppled lay spread over the floor.

"Great observational skills, Potter." Draco muttered, the heels of his boots clicking on the dark wooded floor. He paused beside a long table and ran his fingers over the book lying open on the pale wood, dust and dirt clinging to the invading digits. Rubbing his hand on the thigh of his pants, he grimaced and strolled onward. His eyes ghosted over spines and colourful cover pages, eyebrow hitching higher with every title. "They're all on dragons."

"Mage Dragons." Murmured Harry, plopping down into the chair behind the large desk sitting adjacent to the hearth. Dust rose with a noticeable puff, immediately making him cough and sneeze. Wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jersey, he hauled the nearest book into his lap and flipped it open. The page was full of neat script, tiny letters curving their way from left to right.

"Someone had a bit of an obsession." Draco drawled, swiping dust away from the small plaque attached to the bottom of a still portrait. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the dark haired witch glowering up at him. "What do you know, she's related to you." He muttered snidely, shooting an unseen glare in the direction of the raven-haired wizard. Shaking his head, he walked along one of the shelves, his fingers tracing patterns through the dust resting on the wood.

Harry slammed the book he was reading closed and set it gently atop the desk. His fingers immediately fell to the handle of the drawer closest to him, jerking on the protesting metal. He frowned as a niggling thought rose up in the back of his mind, stilling his tugging hands. "How was I able to open the front door but not the door into this room?" He questioned loudly, gaze searching for Draco's wandering form.

The blond appeared as if summoned, nudging a swaying pile of books back into some semblance of straightness before gliding toward the library doors. Running a hand over the wood of the door, Draco shot a perturbed glare at Harry before knocking on the frame. "These doors don't go with the house." He said simply, turning back around and disappearing between two shelves.

"How do you know?" Harry questioned, as far as he was concerned the doors matched every other door they had run past. Rising, he stalked toward the portal and examined the frame himself.

"My family has several different properties, Potter. I can tell the difference between wooden doors just by slamming them." Draco called from his spot among the books, rolling his blue eyes at Harry's grunt of disbelief. Smirking, he yanked a slim blue book from between two taller ones and opened it idly. A torn piece of parchment slipped from between its pages, floating gently to the floor and disappearing under one of the shelves. Dropping to his knees, Draco bit his lip before sliding a hand tentatively into the darkness and patting around. He halted as his fingers brushed something small and metallic.

"Sure, Malfoy, whatever you say." Harry hollered with a roll of his eyes, the scrape of talons on wood had him freezing before quickly peeking around the door he had been examining. He sighed in relief when the Sandtongue merely shifted positions and snored loudly. Closing the door softly, he walked in the direction Draco had disappeared.

Curling a lip at Harry's bellow, Draco drew his hand from the shadowed recesses of the shelf and peered at the ring resting in his palm. Crafted of gold, it bore a swirling design similar to the shape of a dragon in flight. A small emerald glittered in place of its eye. Shaking his head, he turned it slightly and stared at the inside. A worn engraving had since faded with time and use, the faint curves of the letters barely readable. "R, D, B, M?" Draco guessed, jumping as a shadow fell over him.

"What did you find?" Harry asked in interest, shooting Malfoy a dark look when the ring vanished into a pocket of the blond's pants.

"Mind your own business," the blond growled, rising and brushing Harry aside as he turned and jammed the book back on the nearest shelf. His hand fell to rest against the pocket he'd just slipped the ring into, absently playing with the piece of jewelry through the cloth.

Harry rubbed his shoulder and shook his head while glaring at the Slytherin's back. "I'm going to look around somewhere else." He muttered, waiting quietly for some response from the other wizard. When no answer seemed to be coming, he spun around and stormed from the room, glowing wand held before him to ward away the shadows still hanging in the long halls.

Draco made a face at the door that had been slammed behind the raven-haired wizard. Reaching up, he ran a hand over the silver chain swinging around his throat. Playing with the Dragon's Maw, he considered adding the ring to the chain but decided it would probably just bring more questions. Sighing, he ran his wand through his fingers before turning and heading in the direction the Gryffindor had wandered off in.

XxXxX

Hogwarts was full of soft hissing, the sounds of many voices competing with each other while still remaining quiet. Moving from their offices to the teacher's lounge, the professors spared little time to speak with the members of their houses. Which is why nothing was said about the four students facing off just down from the Great Hall.

They met half way. Standing in the center of one of the school's main halls, Hermione and Blaise exchanged considering looks before cautiously walking forward. Ron and Pansy glowered at each other from over the shoulders of their friends, both stroking their wands in silent warning.

"Zabini," Hermione greeted, shifting nervously on the spot.

"Granger," Blaise responded, giving a quick nod of acknowledgment when Ron scuffed at the floor with the toe of his boot.

"I believe we should talk about what just happened." Hermione said in a rush, her cheeks flooding with colour when Pansy snorted.

Blaise shot his girlfriend a threatening look before nodding to Hermione. "I agree completely." He muttered, chewing on his bottom lip while attempting to think of a place to speak without being overheard.

"Perhaps the Great Hall? No one will be in there right now." The Gryffindor witch offered, tipping her head to indicate the doors standing open down the hall. She glanced at Ron and raised an eyebrow, accepting the hand he slid into hers as he watched the Slytherins thoughtfully.

"That will do, Granger." Pansy mumbled with a toss of her blonde locks, she settled her hand on Blaise's lower arm and dragged him in the direction of the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was completely devoid of all life. Tables and benches sat empty, the dark wood gleaming under the light cast by the floating candles. Their boots rang on the floor as they quietly marched down opposite sides of the Ravenclaw table, pausing halfway and seating themselves. The Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at each for a moment, trying to figure out where to start without launching into a finger pointing argument.

"I assume Malfoy has the Dragon's Maw?" Hermione asked, fingers splayed upon the table as she regarded the pair across from her.

Blaise nodded slowly, brow drawn down as he tried to figure out exactly how much the Gryffindors knew about the flute. He twitched his cloak into his lap and tipped his head as he stared at Ron. "How much do you know?" He asked finally, ignoring the finger Pansy jammed into his side.

"The Dragon's Maw was last held by Raveana Draconis. It gives its holder the power to summon the Mage Dragons. I know when the flute disappeared, what I want to know is how Malfoy ended up with it." Hermione said softly, darting a quick look in the direction of the doors. Beyond the gaping portal, ghosts and teachers would float by, ignorant of the students holding a meeting within.

"His father brought it back from the one of their older estates. Draco took it from a room in the Manor, he said the witch in the painting wanted him to have it. That's all we really know about the flute." Blaise explained, following the Gryffindor witch's gaze. He smiled when Professor Snape stomped past the doors, his loud voice echoing around the Great Hall as he listed the reasons his godson's disappearance should be blamed on Potter.

"Raveana Draconis was a Potter. She was originally engaged to Reginald Malfoy but the agreement fell through due to her beliefs on the dragons. She disappeared several years later, as did the dragons and the flute. We believe Reginald killed her and took the flute." Hermione stated, one of her hands disappearing under the table and wrapping itself around Ron's sweat dampened digits.

"It's possible, but why would Lucius bring it out now?" Blaise muttered, raising a finger and rubbing his temple in thought. Shaking his head, he glared at the wood under his other hand, fingers tapping softly. "For generations the Malfoys have been playing the flute. It makes no sense."

"Yes it does," Pansy broke in, hands splayed across the table. "They've been practicing."

"Why do they want to call the remaining Mages back? I mean, their whole goal was to completely obliterate the species. Why spend centuries training just to call something you can't even control back?" Ron mumbled, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of Hermione's hand.

Blaise and Hermione shared a look full of sudden understanding. "Those dragon's aren't only worth money, the power they possess is astronomical." Blaise whispered, running a hand through his dark hair.

Hermione nodded in agreement, clutching desperately at Ron's hand. "They think they have someone who can control the dragons. But who? Surely not Malfoy?" She said softly, shivering suddenly.

Pansy and Blaise exchanged a quick look before turning back to face the two Gryffindors. "You-Know-Who speaks parseltongue, as does Potter. An attempt to control the dragons using the snake language was never recorded." Blaise murmured, leaning further over the table and lowering his voice.

"Miss Granger, Mister Weasley, the pair of you should be up in Gryffindor Tower. It's almost curfew." Professor McGonagall called from between the doors of the Great Hall. Her hands were folded across her abdomen as she looked back and forth between the pairs. "You two should also be heading to your Common Room."

Under the watchful gaze of their Head of House, Ron and Hermione shot one last amazed look at the Slytherins before exiting the Great Hall. If You-Know-Who could control the Mage Dragons, every possible thing that could go bad would probably happen. The light wouldn't be able to stand against the unknown magical skills of a clan of Mage Dragons. Holding hands tightly, the two pairs stumbled their way back to their houses, unable to shake off the stunned stupor that had fallen upon them.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review!

Draco is my King – I don't think Draco will be teaching Harry how to play merely because it takes years to play the flute as good as he would need to be able to in order to get the dragons to actually pay attention. Just Harry being a relation of Raveana and teamed with Draco, holder of the Dragon's Maw will have to be good enough.  
PleiadesWolfe - Knowing Lucius, something terribly evil.  
IvySnowe – lol, the alert system is starting to get on my nerves too.  
kasmo – The journal is currently held by Blaise and Pansy. The last scene with the portraits and Lucius was basically him receiving a letter from the Dark Lord telling him to bring the flute. And perhaps there was a little flirtation between Reginald Malfoy and Raveana Draconis/Potter.  
Beth Weasley – I always have roster space, especially when the image people give me of their dragons allows me to place them exactly where I need them when I need them. Do feel free to send me your drawing but I must warn you, your dragon will not appear for several more chapters as I have a particular scene in plan (A name would be lovely as well) thank you.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – The female's name is perfect, however one of Ember Ice's dragons is named Silverhawk, which may create a bit of confusion. I'll off you the choice of changing the name or allowing me to play around with it, maybe something latin that's close to Silver? Or Silvester?  
Ember Ice – lol, I'm glad I've helped you find a bit of your muse and once again thank you for the use of your dragons.  
wizli – yep, a letter from the Dark Lord. This can only mean everything is going to get a tad bit more exciting, right? And Raveana and Reginald, perhaps I just can't stand the thought of such a terrible end coming to the ill-fated romance of a pair that never stood a chance.


	13. Singing Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

_Warning: Mild Swearing_

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Chapter Twelve - Singing Dragons**

An unnatural chill had settled upon the dark corridors of the abandoned manor, flooding the rooms and sending shivers up the spines of the wizards who wandered it. Beams of moonlight cris-crossed the path Harry had taken, creating a dappled pattern on the floors. The scuff and thud of his boots reverberated down the hall, stirring dust from the wall brackets and chandeliers.

With the cold had come exhaustion and weariness, both weighing heavily upon the raven-haired wizard's shoulders. Blinking tiredly, Harry pushed open yet another door and peered into the gloom. The bedroom smelled of rotting wood, moonlight glittering upon the shards of broken glass scattered across the floor under the window. Swinging his wand before him, he shuddered as loud squeaks and the rustle of small wings filled his ears. He sighed warily as he raised his eyes, meeting the beady orbs of the dozens of tiny bats clinging to the curtains and ceiling.

Backing from the room, he closed the door and thudded his head against the wood in disbelief. Seven bedrooms he'd examined and not one of them inhabitable. Groaning, he cracked one eye and looked down the hall in time to see Malfoy come blundering backwards around the corner. The blond was snarling something angrily while waving his wand in the pointed face of the golden dragon trailing after him.

Rolling his emerald eyes, Harry stepped away from the door and placed his hands on his hips. "Ignore her, Malfoy." He called loudly, smirking as the blond shot him an angered look over one of his narrow shoulders.

Shaking his head over the blond's antics, he froze and narrowed his gaze as a pair of double doors caught his attention. The wood glowed softly. Pale light seeping through the crack at the bottom. Ignoring the grumbles and curses drifting up the corridor, he turned and walked slowly toward the doors. Placing a shaking hand on the handle, he cast a look heavenward before turning the knob and pushing the dark wood inward.

"Finally," he whispered. The windows along two walls stood clean and unbroken, moonlight drifting past the panes. Small motes of dust danced before the tip of his wand, falling silently to the floor. Gliding forward, he cautiously approached the bed sitting forlornly in the center of the room. Blankets of greys and soft blues spilled over its sides and brushed the surrounding dais. Pillows of various colours and sizes had been haphazardly tossed upon the uneven surface. The slamming of the doors had him jumping and whipping around, the glowing tip of his wand directed at the wizard leaning breathlessly against the wood.

A graceful eyebrow arched as the wand remained leveled. "Excellent find, Scarhead. Now where are you going to sleep?" Draco asked as he eyed the bed in appreciation. He pushed himself away from the door and stalked lazily toward Harry, brushing aside the wand as if it were nothing more then a feather.

Harry's mouth fell open at the blond's impertinence. Placing his hands on his hips, he swung around and followed the Slytherin's slow path around the room. "It's the only liveable bedroom, Malfoy. We'll have to share, you do know what that is, don't you?" He taunted, partially wanting the blond to draw his wand and fire the first curse.

"I'm familiar with the concept." Draco muttered, fingering his wand but leaving it hidden within his pocket where he'd jammed it. Sighing, he kicked one of the wide stairs encircling the bed and waited for the raven-haired wizard to make the first move.

Stomping toward the bed, Harry climbed the stairs and dropped to his knees atop the grey blanket. He swiped several of the pillows to the floor carelessly, searching for the edge of the blanket. Shooting the blond one last threatening glare, he slid under several of the thick blankets and curled into a ball.

"Move over, Potter." Draco grumbled, prodding the raven-haired wizard's shoulder with the tip of a finger. He smiled when one emerald eye popped open and narrowed in anger. "It's the only usable bedroom." He reminded sweetly, internally grinning as the Gryffindor grimaced and wiggled closer to the edge of the bed.

"Bugger off, Malfoy." Harry mumbled wearily, not even bothering to fight when the pillow he was resting his head on was jerked from beneath him ruthlessly. Tightening his grip on the corner of the blanket he clutched, he wiggled over and snagged a smaller pillow. Closing his eyes, he tightened his lips and pretended the blond wasn't jerking on the duvet he was still lying atop.

Giving one final yank on the thick grey blanket, Draco curled up on the far edge of the bed and settled his head on the pillow he'd stolen from Harry. Shivering lightly, he glanced in the direction of the cool hearth but abandoned the thought as his fingers were already warming. "And don't cuddle up to me, Potter." He mumbled, smiling smugly as the Gryffindor snorted and curled into a tighter ball against his back.

"Not even if I was freezing, Malfoy."

XxXxX

Shivering, Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and glanced around. Snow covered the ground as far as he could see, hiding the once luscious grass. Flakes fell slowly from the sky, swirling gently to the earth in a concealing blanket. A flash of movement caught his eye and had him sighing as he turned his head.

Standing on the cliffs before him, Raveana waited impatiently. Her left hand stirring absently upon the scarlet scales of the dragon sprawled next to her. Twin sets of emerald eyes observed him thoughtfully, neither appearing to notice the chill filling the air.

Wading through the snow, Harry approached cautiously, his thin Quidditch uniform doing nothing to push back the cold. He halted several steps away from the pair, frowning at the puddle of water the witch stood in. It took him a minute to realize both dragon and witch were warm, the steadily falling snow vanishing before it could land upon either.

Green grass damp with moisture fluttered weakly in the breeze as it brushed skirts and scales. The ground under her boots squished as she shifted, her hand firmly settling on the crimson Mage's shoulder. "Trust the dragon." She advised in a melodious voice, black locks lifting from her shoulders with a strong gust of wind. The skirts she wore snapped back against the dragon's side, blending seamlessly with his scarlet hide.

Harry raised a hand and hid his eyes as a wave of snow battered his burning cheeks. Lips quivering with the numbing cold, he shot an angered glare at the witch. "How? They stole us from Hogwarts and dropped us in the middle of nowhere. We're stuck here until someone finds us." He snapped out bitterly, immediately regretting his harsh words.

Raveana narrowed her shining orbs and stalked toward him, leaving the protection of the massive dragon. She came to a halt directly before him, bringing with her a rush of heat and a sense of importance. Holding his gaze, she reached out and placed the tips of her fingers against his sternum. "Trust the dragon." She implored, offering him a small smile before she pushed him off the cliff.

XxXxX

The soft light of candles danced upon the damp walls of the small room, waving eerily as the figures standing around shifted and stirred. Before the throne of the Dark Lord, Lucius Malfoy knelt with his head bowed. His blond hair sliding over his shoulders and dangling dangerously over the dried blood and gore marring the stone floor. In the hands he held out to Lord Voldemort, a bright cherry wood box rested, the small sapphire set in the lid twinkling.

"This is it?" Voldemort rasped, fingers reaching for the box. The bony digits flipped the lid open smoothly, trailing along the length of silver resting within.

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius whispered, head still bowed as he waited for the dark wizard to take the instrument. His arms shook from the strain of holding the box in place, forcing him to bite his lip and concentrate on holding the wood completely still.

"The Dragon's Maw, the flute of the Mage Dragon. If you're correct, and you had better be, the last surviving clan of Mage Dragons will answer the call." The threat within the sentence was easily discernable, the warning loud and clear. "Now tell me, Lucius, is he ready?" The Dark Lord asked silkily, leaning back in his throne and leaving the blond still holding the box over his head.

Lucius felt his face pale at the question, icy eyes widening. "My lord, Draco is still young." He protested softly, cringing at the noticeable hush that fell upon the crowd of robed figures milling around behind him.

"What was that?" Voldemort demanded, fingers locking around the arms of the chair he sat in. He slid forward in the chair quickly, the wispy black robes he wore hissing with the movement. "Did you question me, Lucius?"

"No, my lord. Draco is still just a boy. I don't believe he is quite ready to accept a task of such magnitude." Lucius answered swiftly, holding his breath to see if the wizard leaning over him would accept the claim.

"Nonsense, he's sixteen," came the drawled reply. Straightening, Voldemort allowed his snake like gaze to crawl over the rest of his followers, pinning some of them with his narrowed eyes. "They are all old enough. Your offspring should already be assisting you in the completion of your tasks. Especially those with access to Harry Potter."

Lucius bowed his head and closed his eyes, fighting back the twisting ball of dread climbing its way up his spine. "I shall see that he is ready, my Lord." He said quietly, gritting his teeth as the instrument case was lifted from his still hands.

"Excellent, Lucius." The Dark Lord muttered, an evil grin sliding across his face as he flicked the lid of the case open and glared down at the shining flute resting upon the bed of burgundy. "And an army of Mage Dragons shall fall from the sky at my command and claim for me what I most desire."

XxXxX

It was the press of warm flesh against his chest that had Harry fighting sleep and waking slowly. Stretching languidly, he froze as his legs brushed the limbs twined stiffly with his. Blinking in confusion, he sleepily stared into the icy eyes glaring at him from inches away.

Holding himself completely still, Draco ignored the fact that each breath he released rose in a misty cloud before him. "Remove your hands." He bit out, his body tense as he waited for the other wizard to comply with his order.

Harry's eyebrows drew down in confusion, fingers curling reflexively as he tried to figure out what was going on. The angered gasp Malfoy released had him cringing and lifting his hands from the exceptionally soft skin he'd been clutching. Seeing the evil glint rising within the pale orbs, he decided it was best to blunder his way through it and then make a quick escape. "You're on my side of the bed." He growled, narrowing his own eyes in hopes the blond would back down.

"Your hands were on my ass." Draco hissed, hands jerkily rising to shove at the chest pressed against his own. The first hard push quickly escalated into a full out shoving match, both wizards fighting the blankets pinning them together. In a flurry of pillows and sheets, the pair rolled off the raised bed and crashed down the small flight of stairs.

Gasping for breath, Harry stared up at the raftered ceiling and shifted uncomfortably on the cold wood. He frowned as he loosed a long breath, white mist clouding before him only to vanish seconds later. Ignoring the Slytherin crankily fighting the tangled blankets beside him, he wiggled his way from the mass of sheets and shivered.

The room was freezing. Ice traced an eerie pattern on the wall beneath the window, hoarfrost stretching slowly lengthening fingers across the floor. The windows were lit from behind, glowing a bright gold as the sun fought to warm the frost-covered panes.

Breathing the crisp air deeply, Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and shuffled cautiously toward the windows. He lifted a shaking hand and swiped carefully at the cool glass, allowing the heat from his body to clear the fog. Withdrawing his numb fingers, he stared in confusion at the ivory cloud hovering before the window.

"Are you listening to me, Potter?" Draco shrieked, finally freeing himself of a dark blue blanket. Rearing back, he crossed his arms and peered at the wizard standing silently in front of the windows. Huffing as he received no response, he gathered up the pillows and blankets that had been thrown from the bed during the battle and resettled them on the bed.

Tipping his head at the blond's unhappy mumbles, Harry rapped lightly on the pane with his knuckles. He leapt back as a ball of swirling flames popped into existence beyond the glass. The slitted pupil dilated, focusing on the raven-haired wizard with a frightening intensity. Each exhalation of the dragon's breath was marked by a thick white mist, the fog seeming to solidify and settle upon ground and manor in a wave of fresh frost.

Growling under his breath, the raven-haired wizard raised a balled fist and banged abruptly on the thin glass, his movement causing the snowy dragon to grumble and release a burst of icy air in his general direction. Arching long wings in a lazy stretch, the Mage yawned and lashed its tail in silent challenge.

"Go home!" Harry barked sharply, finger jabbing in the direction of the grassy cliffs. His mouth fell open as the Mage snapped its pale wings closed and climbed reluctantly to its taloned feet. With a final rumble, the animal headed toward the high cliffs, a trail of wilted and wet grass marking its passing.

"Potter!"

Harry jumped at the screech, spinning around and looking at the blond rearranging himself on the massive bed. He arched an eyebrow as he waited impatiently, knowing the other wizard was purposefully taking his sweet time.

Finally comfortable with his position, Draco sat up and met Harry's questioning eyes. "We never talk about what just happened and if your hands ever find their way into my pants again . . . well, I'll leave that to your imagination." He finished smoothly, propping himself up on the pile of pillows he'd collected.

"I'll refrain from groping you as long as you stay on your half of the bed." Harry snapped, shooting one last look at the elegant blond sprawled across the bed. Shaking his head, he fled the warming room. His hasty retreat was slowed as a blur of gold and black shot by him, sending him careening into the wall. Straightening, he darted a quick look into the bedroom and smirked in pleasure as his eyes found Malfoy and the Sandtongue silently observing each other from opposite sides of the bed. Smiling, he turned on his heel and went in search of food.

XxXxX

Draco's eyes widened as he saw the golden dragon barreling toward the bed. Squeaking in fear, he lunged off the mountain of blankets and placed the bed between them. He raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair as he attempted to collect himself, his pale eyes locked on the swirling golden orbs focused on him. He crossed his arms as the dragon prowled forward nervously, the click of her claws loud upon the wood. She opened her wings and gave them a light flap, tilting her head and examining the large piece of furniture separating them.

"No." Draco warned loudly, raising a finger and pointing it at the golden dragon as she raised one taloned foot and placed it on the bed. "No dragons on the bed."

Yawning widely, the Sandtongue flipped her wings and leapt atop the bed; the wooden frame creaking as she paused in the center. She flashed her fangs in a parody of a smile, tail waving behind her in a graceful arch.

"Bad dragon!" Draco said, gliding forward several steps while waving his finger in front of him. He realized his mistake when the dragon chirped loudly then jumped. Lying on the floor beneath the pony-sized beast, he gasped for air and tried to push her solid mass off him. It was the light click of metal upon wood that had the silent struggle halting.

The dragon's angular head tipped slowly, one swirling amber eye focusing on the silver chain that had slipped free of his shirt. Draco slipped a finger under the metal and raised it slowly so it dangled before the glimmering orb.

"Shiny. You like shiny, don't you?" He purred, tugging the chain over his head and swinging it back and forth. With each sway of metal the dragon turned her head, entranced by the flute and its chain. Taking a shallow breath, Draco drew his wand and whispered a charm softly. The Dragon's Maw began to grow to its full length, catching the rays of sunlight pouring in the window. By the time the instrument had returned to its true state, the Sandtongue was wide eyed and watching from the safety of the bed.

Smiling smugly, Draco raised the instrument and played a soft note. His eyes drifted close as he became enamored of the whisper, fingers continuing to slide fluidly over the keys. He drifted into an old lullaby without thought, letting his fingers play what they would. A soft rumble harmonized with the flute suddenly, halting his fingers. The Sandtongue continued though, her crooning perfectly matching each note. She finished the melody with a slight flare, wings opening as she observed him closely.

"You're good." Draco whispered in disbelief, flute settling on the cloth of his pants as he sat on the floor. He considered the fidgeting dragon thoughtfully before lifting the flute again. This time, his fingers began the tune Raveana had once played for him. As his fingers traveled up the flute, the golden dragon joined in, and moments later the entire manor shook as the dragons on the cliff picked up the refrain.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review!

PleiadesWolfe - Harry will definitely be able to assist Draco in controlling the Mages.  
Fiery Pheonix - I believe he's starting to realize he has some power over the dragons but then again, neither his nor their loyalties have been tested. As for the Draco/Harry question, I'll be keeping that one to myself for a little while longer.  
Shinigami - Ah, the wedding ring and her reason for giving Draco the flute will come to light in several chapters. Draco holds the flute which draws the dragons, but Harry is a distant relative of Raveana and as such poses a greater chance of having any commands he gives obeyed. lol, definitely agree with the Charlie and Hagird comment, though if all goes as planned they will eventually get to see the dragons.  
kasmo - np, they should try and cooperate but then the bad blood between their families and all that testosterone probably isn't helping their situation. Draco did misread the letters on the ring, but he doesn't really know about the connection between the Malfoys and the Potters because Raveana was recorded as Draconis not Potter.  
Spirited Celebration - Glad you're enjoying it.  
Liria Nai - lol, it's definitely developing, but its too bad its moving so slowly.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - lol, okay. I'll try and make it something really good, promise.  
Steven Kodaly - You're correct about the manor. I can definitely agree they'll probably run into lots of trouble within its walls, though one can never really know what secrets have been hidden for centuries. As for the fragmented sentences, they don't appear as such on my word processor. Every writer has their own style which they cultivate and groom to fit their talent and skill, mine just happens to look fragmented and could be considered as such. I also tend to be a bit wordy which is something I try and keep a handle on but accidents do happen.


	14. A Diary of Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Thirteen - A Diary of Dragons**

Daily Prophet  
Outbreak of Owl Flu, page 9

A recent outbreak of the rare and deadly owl flu has been uncovered after the deaths of several owls from the famous wizarding school, Hogwarts. All owls currently upon school grounds have been placed in quarantine and will be unable to deliver messages for an unknown period of time. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore assures parents and students that another means of letter delivery will be organized as soon as possible.

For now, parents are being discouraged from sending family owls into the quarantine zone and risking the spread of the illness. Until further notice, all owl deliveries into and out of the school have been stopped. Any owl attempting to deliver mail will be turned around at the school wards. Should the wards fail, the owl will join those currently under quarantine.

- Bernice Briklewood

XxXxX

Harry was standing impatiently before the picture Raveana had first appeared in when the manor began to shake. His eyes widened as the portraits along the walls began to rattle, a fine tremble that threatened to send them crashing to the floor. Raising his hands to brace the landscape, he cried out as the painting came down suddenly, impaling itself on his upraised fingers. Grimacing, he shook the portrait off and winced as it clattered to the floor, torn edges waving with the faint wind rising through the corridor.

A dull crack had Harry slowly looking up, his emerald eyes taking in the long line creeping through the plaster of the ceiling. Small chips of white dust rained down on him, making him cough and sneeze as he stared in shocked awe at the lengthening crack. The creak and groan of weakening wood had him stumbling backwards in a vain attempt to escape the rain of mortar. With a grinding roar the first hunk of ceiling fell, crashing into the dark-wooded floor and sending a wave of white dust into the air.

"Merlin's Balls!" Harry yelped, wheeling around and dashing down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder and cried out as the white dust chased him, the cloud growing larger with every chunk of plaster that fell. The glimmer of metal had him sliding to a halt, nimble fingers yanking the door open as he lurched inside. Slamming the door closed, he stumbled backwards until he felt the firm touch of wood behind him. He slid to the floor and covered his head, shielding himself from the objects raining down from the closet's shelves. Seconds later, everything went still. Unfolding his arms, he peered into the gloom around him before drawing his wand and whispering Lumos.

The floor was covered in various objects that had slid off the narrow shelves. Allowing the tip of his wand to ghost over the mess, he stilled suddenly. He swallowed deeply as he extended a hand and closed it around the narrow piece of wood, pulling it closer for inspection. It was an arrow's shaft, the wood smooth and worn under his fingertips. The metal head was missing, replaced by a dark stain that crawled up the shaft. Rolling it slowly, he fumbled the wood when he found himself staring into the twinkling eyes of a white wolf. "Malfoy." He murmured, dropping the shaft into his lap. Shaking his head, he sent his fingers searching through the darkness, patting for anything else of interest.

The brush of soft leather had him arching an eyebrow and pulling the small book from the rubble. A single white lily had been painted upon the blue cloth, its green stem curving into a long leaf. Putting his wand between his teeth, he used both hands to pry the pages open, squinting to make out the scrawling script sliding across the parchment.

XxXxX

_10th of June, 1569_

_It took many years and many deaths for the Dragon's Maw to finally arrive within my grasp. I shall not give the details or methods I used to acquire the instrument, only that I orchestrated a series of events worthy of the greatest dark wizard to bring it to me. If my family hadn't already distanced themselves from me, this would have been the final ingredient in the cauldron._ He _disapproves of course, yet at times, it was his wand that did the casting._

_27th of June, 1569_

_I suppose I never really believed the Dragon's Maw summoned the Mages. However, I find my disbelief assuaged as I sit here writing this. For you see, today I met my first dragon. There are truly no words to describe the surprise I felt upon seeing him draped upon the cliffs. Scales the deepest of crimson shining under the sun while he watched me with those swirling emerald eyes. A king among dragons, and the first to answer my call. I have named him Basta._

_16th of July, 1569 _

_I awoke to find my lawns covered in a fine frost. It was extremely surprising, especially since it's the middle of July. My house elves were upset, the beautiful gardens surrounding Shirestra have been completely destroyed by the hoarfrost. The culprit can only be a Coldmouth. Though I have yet to see this dragon, I shall name it Druid, for only a master of magic could bring snow in the summer. _

_19th of July, 1569 _

_This evening I returned from a dinner party with several old friends to find my usually quiet home in an uproar. It seems a small Sandtongue managed to find her way into my kitchens and made a thorough mess of the entire room. It is strangely disappointing to see only one of a breed when you know they prefer to travel in pods or clans.  
Esdra, as I am calling her, must surely have lost her family to a hunting party. I'm left to wonder how much damage has already been done, how many dragons slain because they are worth more in death then in life? _

_21st of July, 1569 _

_A second King Mage has decided to grace my cliffs with his presence. He is truly a formidable beast and very impressive to look upon. Basta ignores him but I imagine that shall change with time.  
The council sits again today but I have been told to remain at home. It's hard sometimes, not knowing whether I'm doing more harm then good. As the days pass I find myself growing more tense and quiet, finding comfort only within the arms of my husband or sitting upon Basta's shoulder. _

_22nd of July, 1569 _

_Against his wishes, I attended a meeting of the ministry this afternoon. I had wondered why he'd been so close-lipped about the court's proceedings, and it was easy to see why after sitting through the first hour of debate. THEY condemn them for sins that are unavoidable. Why is it we can kill to protect ourselves but they can not? The ring on my finger was probably the only thing that kept me from rising and cursing them all. _

_24 of July, 1569 _

_A new dragon arrived this evening. If my deductions are correct, he's of Icefang lineage. He rode in on the winds of a thunderstorm, his white and gold body visible among the dark clouds. His screams ring like thunder and I'm left to wonder if he controls the element or if it was just an eerie coincidence.  
Basta was not happy about this new arrival. Something tells me that my king shall have his work cut out for him if he is to maintain the position of leader over the slowly growing clan. For now, Silverhawk (as he has been named), seems comfortable to accept the role of follower. _

_28th of July, 1569 _

_Riding Brigadier upon the cliffs has become a dangerous past time as I found out this morning. Generally a fairly calm and quiet animal, the poor boy was given quite a fright when a pair of Green Backs materialized upon the path before us. He did as any smart stallion would, he dumped me into the grass and took off for home, leaving me to walk the two miles on foot.  
Other then a bruised rump, I find myself elated at seeing a mated pair. F'lar, the male, is a dark blue with a narrow band of silver running up his back. His mate, F'lor, is the colour of emeralds and marked with a thick line of silver running from the tip of her nose to the hook of her tail. Their arrival gives me new hope and I can only pray that the Shirestra Cliff clan will continue to grow in the weeks to come. _

_1st of August, 1569 _

_The ministry has acquiesced. _

_5th of August, 1569 _

_Basta bonded with me today. It was a privilege I never expected to earn, a pleasure that has been denied witches and wizards for centuries. The magic of the Mage flows through my veins, changing me forever in ways that I know not. Already my once lovely blue eyes have changed, replaced by a shimmering green the colour of emeralds. They are his eyes; the glimmering orbs of a King Mage. I can only wonder how he will take it. In my heart I know that I will not survive like this. Mage Magic burns to quickly, you see, it consumes the body and mind at an abnormal speed. Unless I find a way to burn it off, I might possibly die of a magical overload. _

_10th of August, 1569 _

_I buried my sweet Brigadier today. He was a fine stallion, perhaps the best I ever had the pleasure of claiming as my own. It was an arrow that brought him to his knees, my dagger that finished the job. I recognized that arrow, that smirking white wolf pacing the wood. It has truly begun. Perhaps I had come to believe they would forget about me and my dragons, safe here behind my wards. He was merely reminding me of that fact. One death shall be outweighed by the many to come. Be over shadowed by the sheer numbers that shall only increase as the days pass. _

_14th of August, 1569 _

_The last few weeks have been quiet and I've found myself spending most of the time searching the sky for dragons. My constant search was finally rewarded when a new dragon appeared on the horizon. A female Siberian Shade, a very angry female Shade to be exact. Since her arrival, she has done nothing but harass Silverhawk and chase Esdra.  
Basta has yet to sort her out but I will leave that up to him, I have no plans to pit myself against this dragoness. Black Lady, for she truly seems to have the temperament of a spoiled duchess, will most likely be the last dragon to answer my call. _

_20th of August, 1569 _

_Perhaps my spoiled little duchess isn't the last dragon to answer my call after all. A dragon lurks beneath the waters of my cliffs, visible only when the surf is calm. I am only able to catch a glimpse of this Mage now and then, its metallic blue scales allowing it to blend in with the sea and sunlight. Maybe the Mage Dragons know something is coming. With all their power and magics, surely some of them know what's occurring and have gone into hiding. _

_25 of August, 1569 _

_Death brushed my wards yesterday, bloodied the magical wall I had constructed about Shirestra. It has begun, I can no longer sit back and watch the world pass us by. My dragons are no longer safe here, I have only come to realize this after killing a man. He dragged my Blue Knight from the sky, chained him to the ground and hacked off those once magnificent wings. He reduced a once fearsome animal to a wailing pile of flesh before my very eyes. I burned them both, hid the evidence of my failure and crime. We can only mourn now as we wait for the time to flee. _

_27th of August, 1569 _

_I shall die today but they will live, is that not what I have been striving for all along? Accept this as the last will and testament of Raveana Draconis, disowned daughter of Melinda and Corace Potter. All that I have shall be left to my family, except the Dragon's Maw. The flute shall be hidden, as per my wishes, in a place where no one will think to look. The Maw is to be put to rest, for its call will unwind everything I have put in motion. Unless the power and might of the Mage is needed, I request it go unplayed. One last reminder shall I give before joining my king on the cliffs: combine the Mage and Maw, and you'll have a power greater then anything every foreseen._

XxXxX

Harry shut his eyes, swallowing deeply as sorrow swept over him. So many new questions had arisen concerning Raveana Draconis. She spoke of a husband but Hermione had claimed the witch had never married. Who was this he she spoke of then? He opened his eyes slowly and reread her last entry before loosening his fingers. The pages of the diary fluttered closed softly, leaving him to stare at the white flower adorning the cover.

He reached up and removed the wand from between his lips, dousing the glow with a soft whisper. Putting a hand against the floor to push himself to his feet, he jumped when the door of the closet was jerked open. Blinking against the sudden flood of light, he glared up into the blue eyes of one very peeved Slytherin.

"What the hell are you doing sitting in a closet?" Draco demanded loudly, a scowl plastered on his face as he peered down at Harry. Shaking his blond head, the wizard planted his hands on his hips. "You've finally lost it haven't you? The Boy-Who-Lives crying in a cupboard like a little girl. Shameful, really."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry muttered, hauling himself to his feet. He jammed the small book into his pocket and began to brush at his Quidditch robes, frowning when he only managed to smear the plaster dust around. A gleam of silver caught his attention and had him straightening to stare at the flute the other wizard held lightly. "Were you playing that by chance?"

"I was," Draco stated proudly, chin rising as he narrowed his eyes at the question. The blond jumped when something brushed his leg, lurching into the closet and whirling around to glare at the Sandtongue standing innocently in the doorway. "And they answered. Did you hear them Potter? How they sang perfectly in tune with me."

"Have you seen the mess you made?" Harry hissed, gesturing at the white floor the little dragon stood upon. "Dozens of portraits destroyed, the roof practically caving in around us. The house has been ruined enough without you adding to it."

Sniffing, Draco raised a hand and stared at his nails, pretending to ignore the raven-haired wizards words. He was still to elated to be angry at Potter, his recent playing of the flute having boosted his spirit. Rolling his eyes as the other wizard continued, he whipped out his wand and held it over his head. "Calm down, Potter. It's nothing that a little magic can't fix."

A sudden rush of power had the hair on their arms raising. Both immediately searched for the source, the tips of their wands shaking as magic swirled around them. The air vibrated with energy, almost humming perceptibly around them. With a final surge, the wave faded, leaving the pair standing slack-jawed at the sight before them.

"Did you do that?" Harry asked dry mouthed, stepping out into the corridor and looking both ways.

Draco followed slowly, his head shaking as he stared at the gleaming wood floor. "No." He croaked, raising his gaze to the spotless ceiling. A chittering had him whirling and backing away from the Sandtongue, hissing slightly as the dragon focused a swirling amber eye on him. "Maybe you should ask her."

XxXxX

Hermione dropped into a chair in the Charms classroom, her book bag thumping upon the floor as she reread the article that had caught everyone's attention in the Daily Prophet. She flipped the paper closed and settled back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I can't believe this." She hissed at Ron, rolling her eyes when the redhead jumped. Pushing the paper toward him, she reached down and opened her book bag, withdrawing several books from its interior. Slamming them down on top of the desk, she narrowed her eyes on their professor.

She shot a look over her shoulder when she heard the chairs scrape the floor, nodding politely to Blaise and Pansy as they collapsed into the seats. Her eyes fell upon the paper the wizard held, seeing the wrinkling of the paper under his tight grip.

"You know what they're doing, don't you?" Blaise whispered, rolled paper bouncing in the palm of his hand. He tipped his chin toward the Professor, eyes narrowing as the wizard explained something to several other students. "They're cutting us off. Making sure Potter and Draco's disappearance doesn't put the wizarding world into chaos."

Hermione nodded in agreement, elbowing Ron as the wizard stared blankly at the empty blackboard. "It's obvious why they've chosen to stop all owl deliveries but surely they don't think that will stop rumours from traveling. I mean, how are they going to stop our Hogsmeade weekends? Claim we've all contracted some made-up disease."

"I'm quite certain they'll come up with something." Pansy mumbled, brushing her chin with the neon pink feather of her quill.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione slumped down and faced the front of the room, flipping her text open to index. Staring at the folded paper, she reread the title over and over again before a light bulb went on inside her head. "Hedwig!" She hissed in excitement, snapping her fingers.

Blaise arched a dark eyebrow and exchanged a look with Pansy. "What?"

"Harry's owl, Hedwig. She can find him anywhere." Hermione explained, already grabbing a piece of parchment and beginning to write. "All we have to do is figure out how to get the message to her without getting caught."

"Leave that to us." Blaise murmured, a purely Slytherin smirk sliding across his face. Settling back into their chairs, the group began to plan.

* * *

A/N: I know, everyone wanted a lot more action but I just had to give you this. lol, next chapter I promise a lot of dragon action. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!

Shinigami – I've never come across the terms 'seme' and 'uke' before, could you please explain? I'm guessing its something along the lines of dominant and submissive but would appreciate it if you would correct me.  
fourth-face-of-the-goddess – lol, many of your questions will be answered in the next chapter, as for Harry's hands, maybe they have a mind of their own?  
MagicallyInclined – It isn't known whether or not the dragons speak parseltongue, however, if I they do, I'm sure I'll find an interesting way to get them talking with Harry.  
muffinsnail – lol, the dragons are unfortunately just dragons, though that would have been a unique spin on the whole thing. Glad you're enjoying the story so far.  
IvySnowe – Sorry, once again only little Esdra makes an appearance. Next chapter though . . . I'm just drooling to write. Some dragon on dragon fighting, an almost singed Draco, it's definitely gonna be a thrill to write.  
kasmo – Bingo! Only you've put your finger on that one and Raveana is repeatedly doing this for a reason.  
PleiadesWolfe – lol, I think he was a little mad.  
Liria Nai – If he didn't notice then, he should definitely have noticed now.  
NinjoftheDarkness – lol, Draco's playing startled him greatly and made him mad.


	15. Trusting A Dragon

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen - Trusting A Dragon**

Harry turned slowly from inspecting the portrait hanging upon the wall, one of his dark eyebrows arched as he glanced at the blond backing nervously away from the small dragon. He shook his head in disbelief before glancing at the Sandtongue, finding his eyes captured and held by the gleaming amber orbs that studied him knowingly. Without thought, he took a slow step backwards and bumped into the blond cowering behind him.

"Ask the dragon?" Harry queried, elbowing Draco aside so he could put a little more space between himself and the grinning Sandtongue. Frowning at the silence that met his question, he turned his head and looked at the wizard standing beside him. The blond had his head tipped to the side and was nibbling on his lower lip, his fingers slowly rolling the silver flute he held. "Are you listening to yourself? I mean, come on, Malfoy, it's a dragon. What are the chances it understands English?"

"But it does," Draco whispered, wide blue eyes rising to meet startled emeralds. A perfectly manicured finger was lifted and pointed at the Sandtongue, forcing Harry to return his attention to the seemingly impatient dragon.

Tail swinging back and forth slowly, Esdra stretched golden wings as far as the hall would allow and gave them a cursory flap before snapping them closed. In the quiet of the manor, the crack was loud, causing both wizards to jump reflexively. Appearing slightly miffed at being ignored, the dragon swung around and prowled gracefully down the corridor.

"I said 'it's nothing a little magic can't fix'." Draco reminded quietly, peering at the raven-haired wizard. When Harry frowned and shook his head, the blond sighed and grabbed the ragged red sleeve of his Quidditch jersey and began to tow him in the direction the Sandtongue had taken. "That dragon understood what I meant. She cleaned the mess before you or I could do it. That implies some understanding of the English language."

"Not necessarily," Harry mumbled, attempting to tug his sleeve free of the other wizard's fingers. He rolled his eyes when the blond shot him an angered look and yanked harder on the cloth. "We were both yelling and I was pointing at the damage you'd caused. It doesn't take a lot of thought to understand that I wanted you to clean the mess _you_ made up."

Rolling his eyes, Draco paused at an intersecting hall and considered his options. Heaving a sigh, he yanked Potter down the brightly lit corridor that ended in a set of french doors. Both doors hung open and creaked eerily as a gentle wind pushed against them, causing them to shift on old hinges. "Earlier, in the bedroom, you told that white dragon-"

"Druid."

A pale eyebrow was raised as the blond looked over his shoulder. Snorting, he waved Harry's interruption away and stepped out onto a weed-infested terrace. "The white dragon," he continued, pretending he didn't see the Gryffindor roll his eyes, "to go home, which it promptly did. They understand what we're saying."

Harry frowned at the blond's reasoning. "Malfoy, dogs understand a few simple commands. Just because it listened doesn't mean it understands everything we say. And at any rate, we can't understand them."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong." Draco hissed excitedly, scanning the area in search of the golden dragon. A flash of bright scales drew his eye and had him towing Harry quickly after the retreating Sandtongue. "You speak parseltongue, correct? And because of that you can understand snakes."

"Uh, Malfoy? I'm pretty sure speaking parseltongue to a dragon would be like barking at a cat." Harry said slowly, giving up fighting the blond's hold and trailing after him. He raised his head and narrowed his eyes against the bright sunlight, focusing his gaze on the large creatures lazing about atop the long grass.

The Mage Dragons were stretched along the cliff's edge, their long wings arched and spread to catch more of the warming light. Under the brilliant rays their scales sparkled like precious jewels. Each lift of tail and tilt of wing drawing the eye. He recognized each of the dragons now, knew them perhaps a little more intimately then he had before.

He recognized the blue and green dragon resting beneath the protective arms of the forest. F'lar and F'lor, mated Greenbacks and dwellers of the forest. The white Coldmouth with the fiery eyes sprawled elegantly behind the King Mage, Basta. Wings trimmed in gold belonging to Silverhawk. Black Lady was a splash of darkness upon the pale grass, tail stirring restlessly. And Esdra, the small golden Sandtongue, who was blundering hurriedly toward Basta and Druid.

"Nonsense, Potter." Draco murmured, halting outside the circle the resting dragons had formed. He tapped his chin as he looked for a possible candidate among the Mages, wondering momentarily what he was going to do if Potter got ate during this little experiment. Shrugging his shoulders, he yanked the raven-haired wizard closer to the dozing dragons. "I'm sure it'll work."

Shooting the blond a glare, Harry jerked his gaze back to the dragons when a threatening hiss filled the air. His eyes fell upon Black Lady just in time to see one of her silver orbs pop open and fasten upon the Sandtongue loping past her muzzle. The large black dragon parted her fangs and snarled seconds before she lunged at the golden dragon. Reflexively, Esdra snapped her wings open and leapt sideways, spinning around and hissing like a frightened cat. Silver eyes glittering maliciously, the dark dragon crawled forward. With a threatening rumble, Silverhawk rolled to his stomach and narrowed blue eyes upon the slinking Shade.

Harry grabbed Draco's hand and began pulling the blond backwards as the other dragons climbed to their taloned feet. Loud roars and snarls shook the ground as the dragons began sorting themselves out. The Greenbacks fled into the forest, vanishing among the lush foliage. Close upon their tails, Druid opened his pale wings and launched himself into the sky, his exit causing a ripple of wind to bend back nearby tree branches and stir the grass.

Silverhawk hissed and lunged at Black Lady, slamming his much smaller body into her chest. Grumbling in outrage, the Shade locked saliva-covered fangs into the edge of a gold trimmed wing and shook her head. Shrieking in pain, the white dragon raked a heavily scaled shoulder with dagger like talons, rending scales from soft flesh. A whip like tail raced over the grass, cracking loudly as it caught Silverhawk across the neck. The pair of dragons became a ball of white and black scales as they rolled upon the grass of the cliffs, their snarls and rumbles ricocheting through the air as they fought.

Esdra took the opportunity to flee, dropping off the cliff and opening golden wings to catch the uprising thermals. Deciding the Sandtongue had the right idea, Draco shook his hand free of Harry's and began to sprint in the general direction of safety.

It was the angered roar of Basta that brought the battle to a halt. With several final nips and bites the pair separated slowly, lines of blood marring their sides. Growling in Basta's direction, Silverhawk turned stiffly and began to stalk cautiously away. Seeing her chance at a last blow, Black Lady swung her tail wildly, aiming for the white dragon but missing as he jumped into the air and unfolded his wings.

Harry twisted his body in an attempt to avoid the long tail but cried out as the length of muscle and bone slammed into his thighs. The force of the blow sent him rolling backwards toward the edge of the cliff. His fingers snatched and clutched at the grass he rolled over in an attempt to slow himself but to soon he found himself dangling over the precipice. The grass and roots he held the only thing stopping him from dropping into the broiling surf below.

XxXxX

Blaise paced quietly down one of the empty halls. He shot a nervous look over his shoulder, eyes searching the shadows diligently for anyone that might get him in trouble. A smirk spread over his face as he stepped outside, gaze drawn to the tall building standing alone beyond the bridge. Giving himself a pat on the back, he tossed another look around before walking toward the owlery.

Generally the building would be a hive of activity. Owls would be coming and going, carrying messages to students or returning from dropping off letters to parents. Today though, today the blue sky above the building was empty. Not one owl circled lazily around the steeple or fluttered about the castle.

Chewing on his lower lip, Blaise fiddled with the folded piece of paper he held. The parchment crinkled loudly in the silence surrounding the stone structure. Each thud of his boots echoed as he climbed the first set of stairs, making him wince and huddle deeper into the light cloak he wore. Ducking into the large room, he found himself looking at every breed and colour of owl imaginable.

"Hello," he murmured in greeting, glancing at all of the owls perched unhappily about the room. His appearance caused an immediate flurry of wings and squawks of indignation as the birds tugged on the tethers pinning them in place. Cringing at the shrill hoots, Blaise spun on the balls of his feet, eyes searching for the Snowy Owl belonging to Potter. A dash of white amidst the dark browns and pale golds had him sighing in relief and approaching the quiet owl. He jammed the edge of the parchment into his mouth as his shaking fingers began to work the ties binding the bird to the small alcove she rested in.

The owls stopped hooting suddenly, silence falling upon the owlery in a way that could only mean one thing. Tensing his shoulders, Blaise turned slowly and met the onyx eyes resting upon him. Lifting a hand, he removed the parchment from his mouth and gave his Head of House an innocent smile. "Hello, Professor."

"Mister Zabini," Snape greeted, pale hands folded before him as he stared at the sixth year. Hitching a dark brow, he held one of his hands out and tapped the toe of his boot as the younger wizard stared into his palm.

Tipping his chin, Blaise shifted his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. With a satisfied smirk, he grabbed Snape's hand and dragged it closer for inspection. "Your life line is long but your love line is short. You're going to have one long, lonely life, sir." He reported.

"Give me that." Snape barked, snatching his hand back and grabbing the piece of parchment the smaller wizard held. With a shake of his head, he unfolded the paper and glared down at it in disappointment. Crumpling the message into a ball, he tossed it to the ground and caught Blaise by the back of the neck and guided him from the owlery. "I suggest you find another means by which to renew your subscription to Witch Weekly, Mister Zabini. Though I'm sure you won't be worried about it for the next few weeks as you're going to have no spare time for leisurely reading."

"But, Professor-" Blaise started the token argument as he was guided down the steps by the hand on the nape of his neck. A rough shake had him quieting and rolling his eyes as he was marched down the stairs. A smug smirk slipped across his lips as he carefully shot a look back at the lone building in time to see a white owl launched from one of the windows. Chuckling softly, he shook his head over the ease with which the Gryffindors had managed to set the bird free. His laughter quickly vanished as he realized he now had detention with his Head of House. Sighing, he prayed that the white owl managed to find her way to Harry and Draco.

XxXxX

Draco halted half way to the manor, turning and looking over his shoulder. Behind him, Basta had Black Lady pinned and was screeching in anger, his sharp fangs snapping at her slender throat. Silverhawk had taken to the sky, his gold wings gleaming in the sunlight as he circled warily over the feuding pair. Of Harry, there was no sign.

"Potter? Potter!" He hollered, turning in a slow circle. His eyes searched the deep grass for the raven-haired wizard, looking for a flash of the bright red and gold uniform the smaller wizard had been wearing. A strangled cry had his head whipping around, bringing his gaze to the edge of the cliff and the blue sky beyond. He jogged slowly toward the drop, scanning the jagged line of rock and dirt.

"Malfoy!"

"Harry!" He yelped, eyes locking atop the crown of dark hair peeping over the line of grass. His long strides carried him across the expanse of green toward the struggling wizard. Dropping to his knees, he settled his pale hands on Harry's tanned fingers and peered down into wide emerald eyes. "Hang onto me!"

Harry blinked, fighting back the fear that fought to consume him. Above him, Draco's lips moved. The hands wrapped firmly around his were cool and seemed small in comparison to his own. Understanding dawned on him as he stared up into orbs the colour of ice. Draco, dragon. Trust the dragon. How had she known? Had she planned this? What if Draco dropped him? Taking a deep breath, he anxiously transferred his grip from the grass to the blond's hands.

Draco felt himself slipping and cried out as Harry's fingers began to slide through his own. He clutched desperately at the raven-haired wizard while trying not to go over the edge and kill them both. The heels of his boots slid ever closer to that line as he struggled to hold Harry's additional weight.

A puff of warm air against his back had him jerking in fright before careful jaws closed around his waist. Before he knew what was happening, he was lifted into the air, Harry dangling beneath him as they were swung around and dropped into the grass. The pair rolled together, panting as they embraced solid land.

"Thank you." Harry whispered, staring up into the cloudless sky. His eyes drifted close as he inhaled deeply, fingers still entwined with the blond's. A soft grumble had him cracking an eye open and looking at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm hungry." The blond muttered, face reddening as he yanked his hand away from Harry's and sat up. From the edge of the forest, the massive scarlet dragon watched him, emerald eyes glowing ethereally. The Mage bowed its head slightly before melding into the forest and leaving the pair alone.

Draco stood and brushed his robes down, frowning at the new grass stain marring the once clean cloth. Sighing, he rubbed at the spot and shook his head in a mixture of disgust and disbelief. A crack of wings had him glancing at the sky and narrowing his eyes upon the dragon spiraling gracefully in the air. He kicked Harry lightly and pointed at the Mage, the gesture drawing the Gryffindor's attention to the pale dragon.

The pair watched the large white dragon circle above them curiously, their eyes tracking his careful movements. With a flip of his wings, he began a slow descent, front talons held almost delicately. Draco grabbed Harry and yanked him back as Druid landed gently upon the grass of the lawn, a dead cow clutched close to his pale chest. With a happy grunt, the dragon dumped the carcass to the ground and sat back, head held proudly as he preened over his dinner.

"That's disgusting," Draco hissed, letting go of Harry's hand and walking closer to inspect the dead animal. The pale brown Jersey rested in a slowly growing puddle of blood, dark eyes devoid of life. Taking a step forward, he nudged the limp animal with the toe of his boot and winced as blood clung to the perfectly cured leather.

"That's dinner." Harry corrected, shoving past the blond to look the cow over. Eleven years of living with the Dursley's had taught him how to cook. While he'd never cooked a whole cow before he figured he could probably manage a couple of slabs of meat from one of the animal's flanks.

Draco stalked forward to stand next to the raven-haired wizard, hands planted on his narrow hips. "It's not cooked." He pointed out, lifting a hand and covering his nose as the tangy scent of copper filled the air. "I don't cook and I refuse to eat raw cow."

Shooting the blond an irritated look, Harry shook his head and turned to head back to the manor in search of a plate and some knives. He froze and whirled around when he heard the dragon begin to inhale deeply. Slack-jawed, he watched as Druid filled cavernous lungs and sat there with his chest puffed up. "Move, Draco!" The blond spun around and looked at him questioningly, pale brows hitched in silent demand.

Harry lurched forward and grabbed him by the front of his robes as the massive white dragon spat fire. Flames crackled and leapt as they crawled over the cow, eating away the soft brown hair that had covered the animal. The fire died away as the dragon snapped his jaws closed; smoke curling from his nostrils as he looked over his handiwork. Giving a satisfied grunt, he tucked his muzzle and neatly tore the carcass apart, tossing his angular skull back and swallowing the cow's head whole.

Throwing Draco to the ground, Harry pinned him in place and frantically began to pat at the smoldering cloak he still wore. His hands slapped at the glowing embers and he choked as smoke filled his lungs. Glancing down at the burnt cloak, he carefully searched for any sign that the other wizard had been seriously injured. He sat back with a relieved sigh when he found nothing, raising his eyes to the sparkling orange orbs of the Mage and shaking his head.

"Your hands, Potter." Draco mumbled into the grass. Behind them, Druid parted bloody jaws and hacked up a gore-covered cowbell.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

feuerfliege – Glad you're enjoying it.  
henriette – Harry has bigger things to worry about then what Draco's stealing.  
karenelaine – Lucius will play the biggest role in whether or not Draco becomes a Death Eater. Right now, the senior Malfoy is trying to keep the younger from going into service.  
GryffieGurl – Glad you're liking this fic. I always try and keep the characters as true to themselves as possible without pushing the boundaries of believable. We'll cross my fingers that I can keep it going.  
PleiadesWolfe – Family, the old saying 'blood is thicker than water' would most definitely have been true back then. Malfoy would have been disowned if he had of gone against his families wishes, at least this way he had some power over what happened.  
Draco is my King – lol, being creative is hard when writing fanfiction. So many things have already been written and rewritten and obsessed over that you have to think hard and deep to keep the ideas original.  
Chrono Breaker – I actually didn't start marking my stories as slash till that long ago and still don't put much thought into whose initials I'm putting first.  
Shinigami – Thank you very much for explaining that to me. Bingo with the marriage guess and the Slytherin couple and the Gryffindor duo are already trying to figure out how to help their friends.  
kasmo – I'd imagine Hermione would be all gung-ho about getting help from a teacher while Ron would think they could do it on their own. As for the Slytherins, they probably think it'll be easier if they can figure out how to do it without getting in trouble or caught.  
SouriMaxwellYuy068 – Thank you for the explanation of seme and uke, it was much appreciated.  
IvySnowe – I love beating up on Draco. . . cause then Harry gets to make it all better.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – lol, yah that was probably a little tidbit of information I needed earlier in the story. Oh well, they're a mated pair now, sorry.  
Fiery Phoenix – There's still plenty of time for the two to get used to each other and learn the power they have over the dragons. I think Draco is still to happy playing with his new toy to really pay attention to what's going on around him.


	16. Dining Among Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen – Dining Among Dragons**

Tucked between a long dinging room and what had once been the servant's quarters, a sprawling kitchen was found. Dishes coated with dirt and grime were piled in a basin upon the floor, a moth-eaten cloth draped over the edge. Along the shelves, carefully labeled jars rested, their contents long since molded and decayed. Grimacing at the mess he'd wandered into, Harry drew his wand and peered around. He ran his fingers through the thick dust layered upon the pale wooden counters, chewing his lip as he searched for plates that appeared relatively clean. A loud crash from behind him had him whipping around and leveling his wand, wide emerald eyes locking with amused orbs of ice.

"Jumpy, Potter?" Draco asked, stepping gracefully over the pots he'd knocked to the floor. Reaching out slowly, he placed his pale digits on the tip of Harry's wand and pushed it away from his chest.

Drawing a deep breath, Harry tightened his fingers around his wand before sliding it away. "What have I told you about making a mess?" He mumbled, turning around and pulling a drawer open. Inside, he found a jumbled mix of silver and gold flatware, all dusted with cobwebs. "We'll have to wash some of this stuff if we're going to use it."

Arching a thin eyebrow, Draco shot the raven-haired wizard a disdainful look and used a three-legged stool to boost himself up onto a section of counter. "Knock yourself out," he stated, lifting a hand and examining his nails.

Rolling his eyes in disbelief, Harry picked up a small bucket and exited the kitchen through the narrow door they had entered. The sun was already sitting low on the horizon, orange and red fingers stretching across the aqua waters of the ocean. Swinging the bucket lightly, he peered around the little fenced in area, heaving a sigh of relief when his gaze landed on a small well. At least he wasn't going to have to wander around in search of water. Stalking toward the stone contraption, he dropped the bucket and tugged on the rope, surprised at the weight on the other end.

Minutes later he walked back into the kitchen and set the bucket down, sloshing water over the cobblestone floor. He raised an eyebrow when he found Draco gone, momentarily wondering where the blond had disappeared to before he shrugged his shoulders. Pulling his wand free of the pocket he'd stashed it in, he eyed the counter before flicking the length of wood carefully. A small flash of gold light consumed the counter before fading, leaving behind a sparkling section of wood that had been freed of dirt. Selecting a pair of silver plates from the pile in the basin, he scrubbed them thoroughly and placed them on the clean counter.

He almost slammed his head on the edge of the wooden counter when a triumphant shout echoed through the kitchen. Hissing softly, he dropped the handful of flatware he'd been washing back into the bucket and rose. "Draco?" He called, wiping his wet hands on the front of his shirt.

The door on the other side of the room flew open, crashing against the tall shelf standing beside it. Stepping back into the kitchen, the blond held a long bottle above his head and grinned. "1559," he announced, setting the wine bottle reverently down on the counter. Grinning happily, he ran a thumb over the cork and glanced at Harry. "Very well aged."

"Great." Muttered Harry as he sank back to his knees and fished around the murky water. Shaking his head over the blond's enthusiasm, he gathered the silver flatware and placed it atop the clean plates. "Why don't you go and pull back the drapes in the dining room? It'll be dark soon." Scooping up one of the plates and a long knife, Harry left the kitchen and headed back outside.

His eyes flicked to the empty cliffs where the dragons were usually sprawled, finding it unsettling to see the area devoid of life. Allowing the plate to bounce against his thigh, he turned the corner of the manor and halted. Three Mage Dragons all sat around the crispy cow, drool pooling beneath their muzzles as they stared at the carcass.

"Hey guys," Harry said nervously, stepping over the flicking tail of Druid. He swallowed as the dragon rumbled loudly, red eyes locked on the prize. Hurrying forward, he dropped the plate into the long grass and eyed the burnt cow. The feeling of being watched was unnerving and he fumbled the knife as he glanced up. Finding three pairs of eyes resting firmly upon him, he drew a deep breath and caught up the sharp blade. Working quickly, he cut several lengths of meat from the deceased animal's flank and plopped them onto the plate. "Thanks."

He was almost at the edge of the house when the angered snarls started. Tossing a look over his shoulder, he cringed and gagged before hurrying toward the back door. Watching three hungry dragons fight over the remains of the cow was not something he wanted to see.

XxXxX

Draco set his bottle of wine down on the long dining table and put his hands on his hips. The room was massive; a formal dining room designed to seat at least forty people. Rapping his knuckles on the table, he dragged out one of the chairs and settled himself atop the dark red cushion. Nodding his head in approval, he stood up and walked to the first curtained wall. He batted the long material with his hand, narrowing his eyes as he prepared to leap back should a flurry of bats flee the swinging cloth. Chuckling at his imagination, he caught up the dragging material and pulled it slowly back from the window, letting the remaining daylight flood into the room.

He'd freed two windows of their encumbrances when he found it. Not another window hidden behind a set of long curtains but a painting. Slack-jawed, he let go of the red drape and stepped back from the wall, wide blue orbs locked on the image. Inhaling slowly, he reached over and grabbed his bottle of wine. A thwack on the cork with his wand relieved the bottle of its seal, allowing him to raise it to his mouth and take a long pull.

Breathing deeply, he turned in the direction of the kitchen and opened his mouth. "Potter! Explain this to me!" He shrieked, one long finger leveled at the painting. "Now!" Crossing his arms, he flopped back into the chair he had selected and kicked the legs of the table.

"I was in the next room, Malfoy, you didn't need to yell." Harry grumbled as he poked his head into the room. He arched an eyebrow as the blond uncrossed his arms and gestured at the wall before him. Turning, he stared in shock at the painting hanging upon the wall, half of it still hidden behind a bright red length of cloth.

"Explanation." Draco hissed, glaring at the wizard in the image. The older wizard could have been his brother or his father. Eyes of the palest blue stared back at him unblinking while long blond hair tangled in a gentle wind. Wrapping his fingers around the neck of the wine bottle, he pulled it closer before taking a long sip.

"Are you sure you want one?" Harry asked, stepping completely into the room. His fingers caught in the length of curtain still covering half of the painting, drawing the material back from the second figure. He smiled as he revealed the raven-haired witch, her emerald eyes glowing ethereally. The blond wizard standing next to her wore a small smile, one of his arms encircling her narrow waist.

Draco gaped in shock at the pair in the painting, raising a hand and rubbing it down his face as he tried to figure out what was going on. Propping his bottle of wine on his knee, he leaned forward and gestured at the painting. "The witch is Raveana Draconis and the wizard . . . the wizard is Reginald Malfoy." He took a consoling draw from the bottle, glancing at Potter.

Nodding his head slowly, Harry went into the kitchen and collected the plates and flatware. Returning to the dining room, he placed everything on the table and sat down across from Draco. "You know who she is?" He asked, tipping his head in the dark-haired witch's direction.

"She held and played the Dragon's Maw; the same flute I have. It was her attempt to save the Mage Dragons that got her killed in the end." Draco whispered, attempting to remember everything that Blaise had told him about the rebel witch. He glanced down at the plate Harry had placed before him, wrinkling his nose at the smell of well-cooked meat.

Harry nodded slowly as he cut a little piece of meat from the hunk sitting on the silver plate in front of him. Popping it in his mouth, he closed his eyes and moaned at the taste. Still chewing, he opened his eyes and met the blond's gaze across the table. "I'm related to her." He said into the silence, smirking as Draco's mouth fell open and the bottle he held tipped dangerously. Chuckling in amusement, he slid another cut of meat past his lips and sat back to finish his dinner while the blond contemplated that little tidbit of information.

XxXxX

The Great Hall was quiet, which was very unusual considering the fact that it was dinner. Generally students would be talking excitedly over the end of another day and the slowly approaching weekend. However, the recent epidemic of owl flu had put a sour note on the entire student body. Students who were used to corresponding with their family daily were left in the dark, cut off from parents and older brothers and sisters. Rumours were flying as everyone frantically tried to figure out how long Dumbledore and the Ministry would keep the facade going. Harry Potter was missing; end of story.

Sighing, Blaise leaned back on the bench and glanced in the direction of the Head Table. The teachers were all pale faced and exhausted, either from fighting off angered parents over fire calls and floo visits or tending crying first years. Grinning, he turned his gaze to the Gryffindor table. Eyebrow hitching, he elbowed Pansy and gestured her gaze toward the Lions lair.

A hushed debate appeared to be occurring amongst the sixth years, all of them shaking their heads in disagreement with something one of them had said. Forks were clanged upon plates and glasses as they argued, their voices rising and falling away as they were shushed.

"Can I have everyone's attention please?" Dumbledore's voice carried through the large hall, bringing silence almost immediately. Waving a hand to draw their attention, the grey bearded wizard stood behind the staff table. "I know this has been a very tough week for all of us. I remind you that all hope is not lost. Aurors and other ministry officials are currently searching for our missing students and will not stop until they are found. As for our ill owls, it has been suggested to me that handing your letters and other correspondence over to your Head of House will allow for some contact between the student body and the outside world. We wouldn't want any of you missing out on important events or news, now would we?" Offering the students a smile, Albus Dumbledore sat back down and picked up his glass of pumpkin juice.

As soon as the Headmaster had seated himself, numerous voice rose up in argument. Barely veiled insults were aimed at the members of the staff as the students rebelled. A flash of red and gold robes had the four houses quieting as Hermione Granger approached the Head Table, her head held high.

Halting before the table, she folded her hands and raised her gaze. "What assurance are you prepared to give us that our letters will actually be sent to our parents?" The witch asked, tipping her head and narrowing her eyes as Professor McGonagall sputtered in disbelief.

"Miss Granger, how dare you question the integrity of this staff!" Professor McGonagall stated in a horrified voice. Shaking her head, the older witch frowned and glanced at Dumbledore. "Five points from Gryffindor and detention with me tonight."

"That's what I thought." Hermione muttered, whirling around and stalking from the hall in a huff. Casting anxious glances at the staff table, Gryffindor House fled the great Hall after one of their top students. As if by some unknown contract, the rest of the houses followed quickly, leaving only a handful of students perched nervously around the room.

"I'm guessing they're trying to relieve some of the tension." Pansy said around her cup, pushing her plate into the center of the table so she could prop her elbows on the dark wood. The slight bob of her head in the direction of the teachers had the sixth year Slytherins nodding.

"I have detention now." Blaise grumbled, tapping the watch he wore with his index finger. He grabbed his book bag from under the table and stood, stretching slowly. Catching Pansy by the sleeve, he dragged her a short distance away from the table. "Get the word out, I want everyone writing home, renewing their magazine subscriptions, ordering stuff by mail. Flood Snape with so much mail he won't know what to do with it."

An evil smile slid across Pansy's face and she nodded in silent understanding. "I'll put the word out."

Nodding, Blaise spun around and headed for the doors. "Oh, and Pansy, arrange a meeting with Granger and Weasley, make it as soon as possible." He added over his shoulder, jamming his hands into the deep pockets of his robes. Perhaps it was time to seek help from someone older and more experienced in the ways of trickery and deceit, he thought as he ran his fingers down the length of his wand. Snorting at the thought, he trudged down the stairs into the darkness of the dungeons.

XxXxX

Harry sighed and sat back in his chair, letting his headrest against the wooden back of the seat. His fork and knife lay across the silver plate he had emptied as he contemplated Draco across the table, a small smile playing over his lips as he observed the slight quiver of the blond's hands.

"Can I have a sip of that?" He asked, indicating the bottle of wine the blond clutched. He muttered thank you as the other wizard handed him the glass, raising an eyebrow as he shook it lightly. "It's empty."

Sneering half-heartedly, Draco grabbed the long-necked bottle and peered doubtfully into its depths. "There's more where this came from." He mumbled, plunking the bottle down and sighing as he glared at the portrait. "She looks like you."

Harry glanced up and followed the blond's gaze to the painting, smiling softly as he met eyes the same startling green as his own. "Thank you." He said, using the tip of his finger to pull Draco's empty plate closer. Rising carefully, he stacked the dishes together and carried them into the kitchen, placing them among the other dirty dishes.

"It wasn't a compliment," Draco snapped, stumbling over the pots he'd dumped on the floor earlier. Straightening, he raised a hand and smoothed his hair back, curling a lip as Harry laughed. Muttering something rude under his breath, he stepped around the remaining clutter and leaned against the counter across from Harry. "How the hell are you related to her?"

"She's a Potter, disowned by her family." Harry replied as he knelt down next to the bucket of dirty water. Cringing at the grime floating on the surface of the water, he dipped his wand into the bucket and swirled it around slowly. A carefully pronounced charm had the liquid clearing. He flicked his fingers, gesturing for the blond to pass him the dishes resting next to his elbow.

"Oops," mumbled Draco as he elbowed the plates off the counter. Grimacing at the dirty floor, he knelt carefully, overbalancing and falling into Harry amid the dirty plates. Smiling innocently, he offered the raven-haired wizard a fork and removed his other hand from the pail of water.

"How often do you drink wine, Draco?" Harry queried in concern, accepting the fork and dropping it into the bucket. It was becoming clearer by the second that the blond was drunk, and it was actually quite amusing.

Shaking water off his hand, Draco reached out and used the back of the other wizard's shirt to dry his wet fingers. "One glass during dinner at the Manor." He mumbled, his fingers wandering into Harry's shaggy hair. Grinning, he locked his digits in the locks and tugged lightly.

"You're drunk." Harry winced, reaching up and pulling at the blond's hand. Biting his lip when Draco's grip tightened, he let go and went back to washing the dishes, attempting to ignore the fingers lazily massaging his skull.

"I am not!" Draco gasped in offense, pale eyes widening.

Setting the dishes aside to dry, Harry stood carefully, yanking the blond to his feet where he wobbled gracefully back and forth. Sighing, the dark-haired wizard slowly escorted the blond up the stairs to the bedroom they had used the night before. Halfway down the upper hall, the pale-haired wizard went limp.

Rolling his eyes, Harry managed to get the Slytherin into the room and onto the bed. Collapsing gratefully atop the warm covers, he froze as Draco snuggled up next to him, a slender arm wrapping itself around his neck. Glaring at the ceiling, he sighed and wondered how the blond would manage to blame this one on him.

XxXxX

Harry peered around slowly, raising his eyes to the star filled sky above him. The moon was full, hanging low in the sky. Beneath the pale orb, the ocean churned calmly, its water crashing soothingly upon the cliffs. He wiggled his toes in the cool grass, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair as crickets chirped softly from their places among the blades.

"You have done well," Raveana murmured, appearing next to him silently. Her dark skirts rustled as she folded her arms and tipped her head back to examine the night sky.

"The picture in the dining room, why was it hidden?" Harry asked, walking closer to the edge of the cliff and sitting down. He crossed his legs and glanced over his shoulder, fingers stirring amidst the grass twisting gently around him.

"Worry not about the past, Harry, worry for the future." The witch whispered, gliding forward to stand above him. She dipped her head, locks falling over her face artfully in a maneuver he'd seen Draco and Pansy demonstrate on occasion. "You must protect them, even the smallest dragon needs guarded."

"The past makes us what we are, it defines us." Harry argued, pulling blades of grass from the ground and tossing them gently into the air. His eyes tracked their swirling path, fingers already working at tugging another handful free of the ground. "And the dragons seem perfectly capable of protecting themselves."

Raveana nodded her head in agreement with the statement, shifting slowly to stand behind him. "They are quick to act, slow to think." She said quietly, raising a finger and pointing at the shadowy figure floating out over the churning sea. The dragon flapped long wings, vanishing into the darkness as quickly as it had appeared. "Protect the dragons and they will protect you."

Before Harry could turn to look up at the witch, she placed the tip of her boot in the middle of his back and shoved, sending him rolling forward over the edge of the cliff. Screaming, he fell toward the broiling surf.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review!

GryffieGurl – Yah, it would be a really long walk back to Hogwarts. Hedwig is going to be a lifeline between Hogwarts and our wizards.  
kasmo – Think of the dragons as a wolf pack, the hierarchy is always flexing. Basta saw Black Lady's attack on a Esdra as a threat so he put her back in her place.  
IvySnowe – Yah, if only it were so easy. lol, I love being able to stick little lines like that anywhere, its one of the joys of writing.  
Shinigami – Draco's finally caught on that the dragons can understand and he's trying to get Harry to talk to one of them in order to prove his theory. Blaise assumed that someone would be watching the owlery so he came up with a plan to get Hedwig out. The parchment he had was nothing really important or that would get him in trouble if he got caught, Hermione and Ron were with him under Harry's invisibility cloak and passed Hedwig the real message while Snape escorted Blaise from the owlery.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – lol, you weren't the only one thinking dirty thoughts when you read that line. I originally wrote it to play that way, but it could have been either I suppose.


	17. Messages Delivered

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Sixteen - Messages Delivered**

With a gasp, Harry's eyes flew open and he lurched against the body pinning him to the bed. Raising a hand, he rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the wizard cuddled up beside him. Glowering at the blond, Harry carefully lifted the limp hand from his hair and tried to figure out where to place it. Muttering under his breath, he folded Draco's arm and wiggled out from under the leg thrown across his thighs. He froze when the pale wizard mumbled under his breath and hitched the blankets up to his nose, breath evening out as he slipped deeper into Morpheus.

"I hope you have a terrible headache," he whispered at the blond's still form, stretching slowly as he rose. Rubbing the back of his head, he walked toward the closed doors, pausing with his hand on the wood. He shot a look over his shoulder, emerald eyes resting on the messy blond locks peeping from beneath the duvet. No, he didn't, he thought. Drawing a deep breath, he rested his forehead on the cool wood of the portal, hands flattened on either side of him.

Somewhere within the manor, a bird called softly. Wincing as several raucous cries rent the air in response, he glanced back at Draco and smiled as the wizard shifted slightly. "Sleep through the worst of it." He ordered quietly, pulling the door open and slipping from the room.

He wandered through the winding halls of the sprawling manor, his fingers trailing through the dust layered upon ancient vases and old tables. Each room he peered into was in a terrible state of disrepair. Windows broken. Curtains lying upon the rotting floor. Furniture was moth eaten and stained, the entire place screamed for a good cleaning. Smiling at the sudden thought, he chuckled lightly, thoughts of a summer break spent assisting Mrs. Weasley in cleaning Grimmauld Place filling his head.

Shaking the thoughts off, he left the manor through a set of doors located in one of the side rooms. His feet led him toward the cliffs, following a path long since grown over with grass and weeds. The ground bore the telling marks of the Mage Dragons, deep claw marks and the hint of recently frozen or burnt grass. However, the same grass looked eerily healthy. As if it had been repaired by a loving hand.

Harry shivered and wrapped his arms around his waist, looking out over the dark churning water. He inhaled slowly, savouring the hint of salt carried on the cool breeze. Tipping his chin up, he peered at the pale sky, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh rays of sunlight. Above him, one of the Mage's floated effortlessly, its shadow sliding upon the ocean's surface. With a flip of long wings, the dragon fell toward the water, talons outstretched. Water flew into the air as the Mage slammed into the shifting liquid, vanishing into its depths.

Narrowing his emerald orbs in puzzlement, Harry eased closer to the cliff's edge, peering doubtfully through the waving grasses. The face of the cliff was sheer rock, craggy with up thrust boulders and sharp spikes of stone. Taking a deep breath, he shuffled closer, staring into the waves sloshing against the base of the rock. Of the dragon, there was no sign.

"Where did you go?" He whispered, stepping back and sitting down carefully. Pulling his knees back to his chest, he rested his chin atop them and glared at the ground. He ran his fingers through the tangled strands of grass, allowing the blades to slip between his tanned digits.

Wincing as the tip of his finger brushed along the sharp edge of a rock hidden in the strands, he cursed softly and slid it between his lips. He froze in the middle of withdrawing the digit, eyes widening in shock. In a quick movement, he pushed whispering blades aside, staring slack-jawed at the piece of metal jutting out of the ground. With gentle fingers, he freed the arrowhead.

"An arrow," he murmured, brow drawing down as he bounced it in the center of his hand. Closing his hand around the sharp piece of metal, he rubbed his thumb cautiously over the tip. "What are you trying to tell me?"

An arrow had killed Raveana but that didn't mean this was the arrowhead that had pierced her chest. The chance was slim, the possibilities endless. A soft whisper rose sharply, stirring the grasses and causing him to jump. "Who's there?" Harry called out, spinning around and widening his stance. Trees groaned along the edge of the forest, their branches dipping as a strong wind tugged angrily at them. Leaves torn free of their moorings swirled around him, waving tauntingly before dropping over the edge of the cliff. Drawing his wand, he took a step in the direction of the manor but stilled as the wind rose in protest, whipping the grasses against his legs.

He took another stiff step, gasping as the edge of the arrowhead nipped the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. Dropping the piece of metal in shock, he swore before falling to his knees and combing frantically through the blades. It was the sight of the arrowhead resting upon a patch of torn and shredded grass that had him freezing. "It was here." He hissed in realization, rising jerkily to his feet. Here that Raveana had spoken to him, counseled him . . . right before she'd kicked him over the edge of the cliff. To end each dream, the dark-haired witch had always shoved him off the cliff, often she'd smiled sweetly while doing it.

Taking several short steps to the edge of the cliff, he peered dubiously over the edge, searching for something he might recognize. Shaking his head, he began to back away, stilling as something caught his eye. The slight shimmer of magic over open air. He waited impatiently to witness the flicker again, running his tongue over his lips as the air shifted and a wisp of gold became visible. Holding his hand over the glimmer, he took a deep breath before dropping the arrowhead, his mouth falling open when the piece of metal froze in midair.

"Merlin!" Harry yelped, falling backwards in amazement. He crawled forward, lying on his stomach and staring at the floating arrowhead and the small patch of rock it rested upon. Standing, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked in the direction of the broken-down manor. Closing his eyes, he took a slow breath before lifting his left leg and holding it over nothing. Throwing a prayer skyward, he took the plunge and stepped forward.

XxXxX

Draco groaned and lifted his left hand, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple. He cracked one eye slowly, glad that his back was toward the window and the blaring light of the morning sun. Stretching gracefully, he waited with bated breath for one of his limbs to brush against the warmth of Harry's body. He frowned when he found only cold sheets. Sitting up quickly, he moaned and moved his hand to cover his mouth while he sank back to the mattress.

"I'm never drinking again," he croaked, dragging the blankets back over his head. Shutting his eyes, he waited for his stomach to settle. Relaxing into the quietness that surrounded him, he waited the feeling out, smiling proudly when the queasiness fled without him having thrown up.

A sharp tapping broke the silence suddenly, causing the wizard to narrow his eyes and search for his wand. "Go away," he called. Combing his fingers threw his blond hair, he hissed as the sound increased into a loud rapping. A malicious grin settled upon his lips as his fingers closed around the firm length of his wand, drawing the magical instrument closer to his chest he prayed the loud noise would stop. Two minutes later he was envisioning himself leaping from beneath the blankets and zapping whatever was making all the racket while maintaining his cool and calm facade.

Peeping over the edge of the blanket, he leveled his wand at the white owl perched elegantly on the ledge of the window. Pale eyebrow hitching in interest, he lowered his wand and tipped his head. Harry had a Snowy Owl. The large bird never failed to capture his attention when she delivered the raven-haired wizard's mail, her white feathers fairly radiating beauty.

Rubbing his forehead, he considered his chances of the bird leaving on its own but found them lacking. "You better have an important message," he mumbled, sliding from under the thick blanket. Shuffling toward the window in his bare feet, he shielded his eyes from the painful rays of sunlight. Hooting in greeting, the owl flapped her strong wings and pecked at the glass impatiently.

"Can't you see I'm coming?" Draco snarled, attempting to push away the thoughts of de-feathering the white owl. Reaching the window, he leaned against the frame and closed his eyes, drawing several deep breaths while he waited for his head to stop spinning. His fingers fought with the window's lock, the small clasp frustrating him as he tried to open the window without moving from the protection of the dangling curtains. He smiled as the lock clicked open under the pressure of his fingers, the window creaking as it swung open.

In a flurry of feathers, the owl shot into the room. "You stupid, glorified chicken." He hissed, slamming the window closed behind the Snowy Owl. Rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers, he glared at the bird perched atop one of the bedposts, feathers puffed up as she hooted at him in indignation.

Draco approached the bed slowly, eyes narrowed on the white owl. He held up his arm in invitation, waiting anxiously as the bird fidgeted upon her perch. "Harry's not here right now, you should know that." He snapped, waving his extended arm for emphasis. A smile slipped over his face as the owl clacked her beak, ruffling her wings as she stared at him with large amber eyes.

He was just about to give up when the owl unfurled her wings and dropped from the bedpost, gliding effortlessly to the perch his arm provided. Rolling his eyes, he untied the small message wrapped around her leg, fingers fumbling with the knot. As soon as the piece of folded parchment fell into his hand, the white owl leapt into the air and flew over to the closed window.

Smiling maliciously, the blond began to unfold the note, ignoring the owl's attempts to get through the glass. His fingers shook as he flattened the creases in the paper, eyes darting over the script scrawled upon the creamy parchment.

_Dear Harry and Draco, _

_We hope that you're both alright and are taking care of each other. By we, I mean Hermione and Blaise. Startling, isn't it? The thought of a Slytherin working with a Gryffindor. Ron and Pansy are trying to help as well, when they're not attempting to verbally injure each other. _

_Dumbledore has stopped all owls from carrying messages in and out of the school. We believe this is merely a ploy to keep the public from learning of your disappearance, Harry. It is amazingly highhanded but necessary to keep the wizarding world from panicking. We're not sure if Mister Malfoy or Remus have been alerted to the current state of things. _

_Thus, we have decided it would be best if we all worked together to find a solution to this problem. Blaise and I suggest the pair of you sort out your differences and try to figure out where exactly you are. The Mage Dragons have most likely returned to their original nesting area, however, the library has few books concerning the whereabouts of the last Mage Dragons. _

_Write us back immediately with any helpful hints you may have come across. Once we figure out where you are, we can begin trying figure out how to get you back to Hogwarts. _

_Hermione, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy_

A movement in the distance drew his gaze, causing him to arch an eyebrow as he watched Harry jump around. Walking slowly toward the window, he paused next to the mad owl and observed the Gryffindor's antics. Leaning against the windowsill, he slid his fingers through the soft chest feathers of the owl. The parchment he held in his fingers crackled as he closed his hand around the note, crumpling it into a small ball.

He should probably go down and show Harry the note but he didn't think he was ready to venture outside yet. Pressing his forehead against the windowpane, he watched in confusion as Harry stood up and peered over the edge of the cliff. His mouth fell open as the raven-haired wizard lifted a foot and dangled it over nothing.

"What are you doing?" Draco screamed, slamming his fist against the glass as he watched the Gryffindor step off the cliff. He stared slack-jawed at the waving grasses growing along the ledge, now devoid of human life. "What did you do?" He screeched, each impact of his hands rattling the glass as he searched for some sign of Harry. The message fell from his hand as he raced from the room.

XxXxX

He struck ground with a thud, landing on his face upon a ledge shielded from sight by magic. Huffing for breath, he pushed himself to his hands and knees and peered into the darkened cave before him. Shaking his daze off, he sat back on his heels, gulping as he looked down into the sloshing water below him. In a flurry of stained and dirtied Quidditch robes, he scurried forward on his hands and knees. Halting just within the mouth of the cave, he whispered Lumos.

"You witch," Harry muttered in disbelief, the words coloured with a combination of amusement and awe. Raveana had indeed been a clever witch, pointing him toward this place without truly saying anything. Rubbing his scraped hands on the front of his shirt, he rose and shuffled further into the cave, the glow from his wand providing the only light.

Metal shone under the faint glow, running the length of one wall in a low line. Lifting his wand higher, he tiptoed through the darkness. Chewing his bottom lip in puzzlement, he reached his hand toward the shine, jumping slightly as his fingers brushed something solid. With a crack, a candle leapt to life upon the wall, its flame stretching toward the low ceiling. Others flickered into existence without warning, brightening the cave in seconds. Feeling foolish holding his wand above his head, Harry hissed Nox and stared at the long box before him.

Stepping closer, he ran the tips of his fingers through the thick layer of dust, cringing as his nails scraped on glass. Using the edge of his sleeve, he carefully wiped away the decades worth of dust, halting as he revealed what lay within.

She lay upon a blanket of emerald velvet, her mass of dark curls arranged gracefully around her head. The ball gown she wore was a dark shade of green, its long ruffled skirts posed artfully about her body. Perfectly preserved by the spell placed on the glass coffin, the pale witch appeared to be sleeping with her hands folded neatly atop her chest. A single band of gold ringed the fourth finger on her left hand, shining faintly in the candlelight. Emblazoned upon the metal, a dragon stretched.

"Raveana," Harry whispered, half expecting the witch to sit up and laugh at him. Her name echoed in the cave, ringing down the tunnel that lay beyond the coffin. Gliding his hand over the glass, he backed away slowly. Bowing his head, he turned in the direction of the tunnel, wand clutched tightly in his fisted hand.

Carved smooth, the tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, brightened only by the odd candle. It was a daunting journey into the earth's depths, each thump of his boots echoing loudly. In a hollowed out area at the end of the tunnel, a large bowl sat atop a marble pedestal. Made of glistening ebony, the basin was shallow and marked around the rim with silver engravings.

Inside the bowl, wisps of silver floated to the surface, blurry images becoming visible before the magic drifted deeper into the basin.

"Pensieve." The word ricocheted off the walls of the niche, making him cringe as he stared into the basin. He bit his bottom lip as he considered the pensieve, wondering if he dared dip into the ancient memories contained within. Sighing, he slid his wand into his pocket and placed his hands on either side of the black bowl. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his face to the silver thoughts and closed his eyes.

XxXxX

**The Quibbler**  
Coldmouth Mage Makes off with Maggie, page 4

A massive white dragon was the first thing that Gordon Fickley saw yesterday when he went out to check on his prize Jersey, Maggie. The dragon was reportedly perched atop the farmer's barn eyeing his herd when he emerged from his house just east of Owl's Glen. Upon hearing his startled shout, the dragon roared and jumped to the ground, scattering the curious cattle milling about. Fickley says he managed to leap out of the path of the icy mist the Coldmouth spat at him but mourns the loss of his vegetable garden. Tragically the garden took the brunt of the blast and remains in a frozen state.

'It was horrible' Fickley said, wiping a tear from his cheek as he stared at his frozen tomatoes. 'I thought it was going to kill me but then it grabbed up Old Maggie and took off.'

Neighbours of Gordon Fickley have reported that they too are missing livestock and all evidence points to dragons. Town council members are currently in the process of arranging a small dragon hunt, which will hopefully take place within the week. All town members have been invited to this historical event.

The Ministry was also notified of the incident but has stated that, to their knowledge, all Mage Dragons were slain centuries ago. At the pleadings of the town's Mayor, Rodney Hidge, the Ministry has agreed to send several Aurors to check the surrounding area but remains doubtful at the possibility of finding any dragons.

Though this reporter smelled the rum on the old wizard's breath, he fully believes something significant took place upon the rural property yesterday. After all, we do have frozen tomatoes as proof. Now if only the carrots could talk . . .

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

kasmo – Perhaps she was a bit ooc, but then again she is under a lot of stress and one of her best friends is missing.  
fragonknight01 – When it comes to timing certain things, I like to make sure it's believable. Hedwig couldn't have arrived in the last chapter because we have to consider the distance she has to fly to get to Shirestra.  
NinjaoftheDarkness – lol, hey, dirty thoughts are generally the ones that get a lot of laughs. Besides, our minds probably weren't the only ones that wandered.  
PleiadesWolfe – Yah, I should probably have had him do something really embarrassing. Raveana's comment was directed at Draco, though he isn't the littlest dragon at Shirestra.  
Shinigami – I can definitely bring Luna and Neville into this, as well as the twins with a little maneuvering.  
GryffieGurl – One must always consider the intelligence of the dragons, they're pretty smart but at the same time they were almost erased completely from the wizarding world. Harry will need to protect them, in the very near future might I add. Raveana was also including Draco when she made that comment, after all, he does carry her flute. As for how much I'm giving you on the lady witch herself, I like to keep everyone guessing, though the next chapter will reveal some very interesting information. I hope I answered your review well enough, as it was extremely long and I do have to be careful about how much information I give away.


	18. Pensieve Thoughts

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Seventeen - Pensieve Thoughts**

Harry slammed into the floor and groaned, rolling over and pushing himself slowly to his hands and knees. Blinking, he rose to his feet and looked around the shadowed room, freezing when his eyes landed on the figure sitting across from him. For one minute, he thought he was looking at Lucius Malfoy.

It took him a moment of rationalizing and a narrowed eyed glance at the blond to notice his jaw was just a little squarer, his eyes a deeper shade of blue. Heaving a relieved sigh, he flopped into the chair before the wizard and leaned forward, eyes scanning the documents scattered upon the black wood.

The sound of someone approaching had him turning in the chair, eyes widening as a raven-haired witch breezed through the library doors. Scarlet skirts swirled around her legs as she stalked forward, a sheaf of papers held tightly in her right hand. With a peeved huff, she slapped the stack of parchment down in front of the blond wizard and dropped directly into the seat Harry was occupying. "Reggie, you said you'd take care of this."

Peeling himself out of the chair, Harry stood and shook his robes out, grimacing at the ache growing in his stomach. Frowning down at the witch, he extended a hand and ghosted his fingers over her cheek.

"I've spoken with my father, he said the subject was closed." The blond wizard murmured, setting the quill he held atop the papers the witch had scattered. "There's nothing that I can do, Rav."

Blue eyes burning, the witch slid forward in her chair and placed her hands on the edge of the desk. "It's a legally sanctioned massacre. You and I both know it." Raveana whispered, casting a quick look over her shoulder at the doors she'd left open. She slid one of her hands forward and caught one of his, stilling the quill he was rolling back and forth. "Please Reggie, try again."

Reginald Malfoy nodded slowly, turning the hand she held over and interlacing their fingers. "Of course, my sweet." Thus said, he raised her hand to his lips and placed a quick kiss upon the back.

The graceful movement drew Harry's eyes to their joined hands. Identical rings encircled the third finger on their left hands, the metal grating together as the pair shifted closer. Upon the surface of the gold, a sleek dragon was sprawled, leaving no doubt in Harry's mind that it was the same ring Raveana still wore upon her hand. As they rose and leaned over the desk, the thought ended, slamming him unceremoniously into a different memory.

Lying upon a floor, he shifted and found himself staring at a pair of well-made boots. Groaning, he stood and swiped at his torn Quidditch uniform, his eyes widening as he stared at a picture that he had seen before. Jerking around in confusion, he glanced at Reginald, noting the reddened eyes and the paler than normal face.

"Make sure they're straight." The blond snapped, shifting back and forth as he glared at the two men installing new doors. In what could of been a fit of fury, he threw something into the dark room, the faint clink as it landed resounding in the silence. Beyond the men, Raveana's library of dragons was heavily shadowed, its uneven stacks of books sitting untouched. As soon as the doors were settled upon their hinges, the men fled the hall, leaving the blond standing silently before the dark wood.

Reaching out, Reginald ran his fingers over the wood in a soft caress of finality. Stepping back, he drew his wand and began to whisper a spell. With a last flick, the doors glowed dark green, sealing themselves closed until the blond's murmured conditions were met. "It's done." He whispered to himself before turning and walking through Harry.

The thought ended there, dumping Harry into another before he could break free of the pensieve's grasp. Picking himself up off the floor again, he peered around the darkened room before moving toward the three figures standing huddled together in front of an altar.

Gowned completely in white, Raveana stared up into Reginald's glowing blue eyes, their hands joined between them. The blond wore expensive dress robes of midnight black, his thumb absently caressing the underside of the witch's wrist. Standing beside the pair, the priest finished and snapped the bible he held closed, giving a brief nod to the wizard before sweeping from the room.

"You're mine forever, love." Reginald murmured playfully, bending down and placing a slow kiss upon the lips offered up to him. The couple lingered together, whispering softly to each other as they cuddled.

"You wouldn't have it any other way." Raveana returned, raising her hand and watching the ring upon her finger shimmer under the candlelight.

Before she could lower her hand, the blond caught it and gave her an apologetic smile. "No one can ever know we did this, Rav. It was against my parents wishes, and most of the councils as well." Pulling her close, he kissed her lightly on the forehead before sliding the gold ring off her fourth finger and onto her third. Stepping back, he squeezed her hands before pushing her gently away from him. "Wait for me in the carriage."

Harry glanced back and forth between the pair, wondering which he should follow. As the door thudded shut behind the raven-haired witch, the blond drew his wand and turned slowly in the direction the priest had gone. Running his wand between his fingers, he heaved a short sigh and glided after the short man, Harry trailing behind him like a ghost.

The priest looked up as Reginald slid into the room and closed the door. Offering the older wizard an innocent smile, the blond pointed his wand at him and hissed 'obliviate', the spell connecting with deadly accuracy. Pale eyes shimmering sadly, Reginald slipped from the room, leaving the priest sitting at his desk in the middle of the night with no idea or memory of what he was doing there.

Harry was thrust from the memory and into another, given no chance to go over the memories he'd just witnessed or partaken in. Shaking his head to clear it, he peered at Reginald who stood solemnly next to him, his pale eyes focused upon the raven-haired witch standing upon the steps of Shirestra. In her hands, Raveana held the Dragon's Maw, a small golden dragon bouncing next to her. In front of them, a wizard holding a bow paced, held back by the iron gates and the wards wrapped around the witch's land.

"How did it come to this?" Reginald whispered, tipping his head back and staring at the slowly darkening sky. A wizard came trotting toward them, panting out a message before gesturing over his shoulder. Nodding, the blond cast another longing look at the witch. He ducked his head as he swept past the puffing wizard, the dragon hunter carrying the bow hot on his heels.

Following the trio, Harry placed a hand over his gut to try and calm himself. His eyes rested on the glowing bow the second wizard held, a dawning realization growing in his mind as he recalled how Raveana had been killed. Face paling, he reached out to grab Reginald, to yell at him to stop this, but his hand passed through the blond.

"Let's do this." Reginald snapped, drawing his wand and leveling it at the magical wall glinting in front of the group. A dozen wands were lifted and a spell hollered, magic coursing through the air as it connected with Raveana's last line of defense.

Alarms shrieked as the wards fell, the mercenaries lunging through the lingering magic as they raced into the forest. Reginald and Harry followed silently, the blond's strides shortening the closer they got to the massive manor. They prowled from the concealment of the trees, halting as Raveana spun to face them. "You're a fool, Lady Raveana, to die for a bunch of beasts that can't even understand you."

Drawing her wand, Raveana lifted her chin. "But I was a happy fool, Reginald."

Hissing softly, the blond hissed a spell, the muscles in his arms tensing as the dangerous charm hurtled toward the raven-haired witch. She deflected the magic with ease, the crack of the dissipating charm hiding his relieved sigh. "Those damn beasts have made me what I am. Their blood and scales alone are worth thousands of galleons." A strong wind whipped around them, tugging the cloaks and hair of the witch and wizards gathering upon the lawn.

"Someday you'll wish you had left the Mage Dragons alone, Reginald." Raveana called, the silver cloth of her skirts billowing around her legs. It began to rain suddenly, the first drops pattering against the grass quietly. The raven-haired witch spun quickly, her entire body jerking as an arrow struck her.

Harry rushed to her side, knowing there was nothing he could do. His hands passed through the arrow's shaft as he cupped the wound, tears running down his face as the blood continued to flow through his fingers.

"You should have let me have them, Raveana." Reginald's whisper reached Harry, the lack of emotions in the words horrifying him. How could you marry someone and not love them? How could you stand there and watch while they died?

Raveana collapsed to her knees, Harry falling with her as she lifted her emerald eyes to the sky. The blond appeared over them suddenly, staring dispassionately down at the witch who wore his wedding ring. Blinking through the tears coursing down his face and the rain gliding through his body, Harry could have easily killed the blond wizard. He dropped his gaze back to the face of Raveana, sniffling as her eyes began to dim.

"Sweet Raveana." Reginald whispered as he dropped to his knees next to the witch's body, the words were nothing more than an exhalation heard only by Harry and the wizard who'd muttered them. The blond's fingers delved into the witch's pocket, removing the flute that she'd hidden there moments ago. He ran the tips of his fingers over her pale cheek, pushing back the tangled strands of wet hair the wind had tossed carelessly about. "You should have listened to me, Potter."

"Someday you'll regret the death of every dragon you ever murdered, Malfoy." Raveana whispered with her last breath.

Harry cried out loudly, flopping backwards as the rain came driving down angrily. He glared at the wizard kneeling across from him, hands fisting in anger. "How could you do it?" He hollered, lunging across Raveana and grabbing wildly for Reginald. His hands passed through the blond, leaving him lying in the mud behind the wizard. Pounding his fists against the ground, he roared in pain.

The sudden crooning that filled the night drew him out of his temper tantrum, had him lifting his head and staring at the sleek forms sliding over the rough water. Beside him, Reginald rose and removed his cloak, draping it over the limp body of the raven-haired witch. In a silver wave, the memory faded away, quickly replaced by another.

Reginald sat alone in a dark room, staring blindly out the window at the crescent moon hanging in the sky. In his fingers, he rolled his golden wedding band, the warm metal reminding him of the witch lying cold within her grave. Groaning, he picked up the glass of scotch sitting next to him and took a long sip, ignoring the greasy strands of hair that fell into his eyes.

Harry sat down across from him, confusion warring with hate and longing as he looked at the bottle sitting at the wizard's elbow. He took the blond's appearance in slowly, the dirty hair, the grungy black robes, and the reddened eyes. Reginald Malfoy didn't look like a man who was pleased with himself. In fact, he looked down right drunk. But this didn't seem to be a victory party to Harry, it was more like a one person wake.

The door on the opposite side of the room opened suddenly, the brilliant glow of a wand brightening the shadowed room. "Reginald, whatever are you doing sitting in a dark room alone?" Asked the older blonde witch standing in the doorway. She shook her head as she took him in, lowering her wand as she sighed. "I'm very proud of you, my son. You've pleased your father greatly."

Harry gagged at the witch's comment, wondering how she could be happy over the death of another. He shook his head and slumped deeper into the chair he sat in, narrowing his emerald eyes on Reginald.

"It's good that I've made daddy proud." Reginald drawled, saluting the witch with his glass. His fist closed around the ring he held, knuckles whitening. Lifting his glass, he drained it in one long pull before placing the empty cup back on the table. "I'd like to be left alone, Mother."

Sighing again, the witch shook her head and began to leave the room. "Please come down to dinner, you can't sit up here alone forever." She said over her shoulder, closing the door lightly.

Reginald slumped deeper into his chair and closed his eyes. "I already regret it," he murmured, listening to the sound of the witch's retreating footsteps. Holding his hand up before him, he slid the golden ring onto his fourth finger and rose, scooping up the cloak lying on the floor. "I have a library to seal."

Yet again Harry found himself pushed free of the thought, his mind and metaphysical body slamming into another memory without warning. And once again he found himself standing in a room he recognized. Well, not quite a room.

The cave was lit by the candles on the walls, the little flames flicking brightly in their holders. Reginald was kneeling before the silver and glass coffin, one of his hands clasped around the raven-haired witch's wrist. He wore a sad smile as he shifted the ring upon her hand, moving it from her middle finger to the one beside it. "Where it should have been," he said softly. The blond stood carefully, brushing dirt from his slacks as he peered down at the witch who had loved him.

Harry walked over to stand next to Reginald, observing the older wizard's graceful movements as he closed the lid of the glass coffin. Sliding pale fingers over the lid in a last caress, he drew his wand and whispered something in Latin. The raven-haired witch's tomb was enclosed in a bubble of gold for a brief second, the glow fading abruptly as the candles died one by one.

"Good bye, my Rav." The simple words were the last thing Harry heard before he was thrown out of the pensieve and onto the sandy floor of the cave. Picking himself up, he stared at the ebony basin for a moment, his head filled with memories that weren't his.

"Did he or didn't he love her?" He asked, the question ricocheting through the underground lair. Still puzzled over the contents of the pensieve, he stalked back up the long tunnel, chewing his bottom lip. He reached the main cave and halted next to the glass coffin, staring down at the witch who lay within. The sudden shrieking of his name had him arching an eyebrow and stalking toward the pale sky visible at the mouth of the cave, hands tightening into fists as he recognized Draco's voice.

"I'm coming." He mumbled as he stepped out onto the small ledge and looked upwards, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. Gulls screamed out over the water, the sound almost obliterating the blond wizard's loud screams.

XxXxX

Draco raced down toward the cliffs, his heart pumping as he stumbled toward the spot where Harry had gone over. He ignored the sudden appearance of the white and gold dragon, his eyes wanting only the familiar sight of ruffled black hair. The waving grass seemed to grab at his legs, slowing his progress as he fought its hold.

Skidding to a stop a few short feet away from the edge of the cliff, he dropped to his knees and scuttled forward, panic growing as he peered down into the churning water crashing against the base of the cliff. "Harry! Harry! Harry!" He hollered, as if by merely speaking the raven-haired wizard's name he could make him appear.

The sudden appearance of the wizard in question, had him sinking completely to his chest and burying his burning face in his folded arms. Thanking Merlin for Harry's safety, he slid forward a bit more and peered down into the upturned face. "What the hell did you think you were doing? What was going on inside that pea-sized brain of yours that would make stepping off a cliff look like a good thing?! What were you thinking?" He screamed, fingers flexing with the urge to strangle the other wizard.

"Calm down, Draco." Harry called patiently, shuffling back a step so he could better see the blond. Blinking against the light, he rubbed his hands together and winced, remembering the injuries he'd gotten when he landed on the ledge. "There's a cave here, it's got some very interesting th-"

"You stepped off a cliff for some interesting things? I can't believe I ran down here because I thought you were dead!" Draco snapped, shaking a finger for emphasis as he glared at the Gryffindor. "You made me run for nothing!"

"Sorry?" Harry offered, taking another small step back. The shift in weight proved fatal as the eroded edge of the ledge crumbled beneath him, sending him plummeting toward the roaring waves and pointed rocks.

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! I know there wasn't a lot of Harry and Draco in this chapter but some things had to be explained and I apologize. **Happy St.Patrick's Day! **

kasmo – Harry didn't really fall that far, maybe only six or seven feet.  
Shinigami – The Quibbler article is from the present, sorry for the confusion. As for the dragon hunt, it might be highly controversial but if the Mages accidentally go after the livestock


	19. Embrace the Dragon

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Eighteen - Embrace the Dragon**

Harry fell toward the water, his arms waving as he frantically grabbed at the face of the cliff. With a screech of fear, he slammed into the breaking water, the strong pull tugging him beneath the rolling waves. Kicking and paddling with his arms, he fought for the surface, his lungs burning.

The weight of his clothes dragged him deeper, his movements slowing as his vision spotted and blurred. Cheeks puffed out and internally screaming for air, he blinked against the saltwater. A shimmer of metallic blue and brilliant purple exploded from under him, a swirling lavender eye meeting his wide emeralds. Darkness fell upon him as he sank, that shimmering eyes the last thing he saw.

XxXxX

Harry sat up with a gasp, finding himself in knee deep water on a beach. Shaking water from his eyes, he rose unsteadily and stumbled away from the liquid. A flash of colour resting upon the golden sand drew his eye, bringing him a halt with the ocean licking at his heels. Mouth falling open, he walked toward the witch.

Tilting her head, Raveana arched a dark eyebrow and smiled. "Lost your balance, did you?" She queried, rising liquidly and sinking her fingers into the emerald skirts she wore. With a flick of her wrists she sent sand flying into the air. "I told Reggie that was a bad idea, but he insisted."

"He killed you," Harry muttered in confusion. "How can you speak of him like that when he was the one who killed you?"

A sad smile played across the witch's lips. "You haven't figured that out yet?" Shaking her head in amusement, she turned away from Harry and glided down the beach, indicating he should follow with a wiggle of her fingers. "Dragons are the most loyal of creatures. As long as I had lived, they would have remained here. They would have been slaughtered merely because I called them to me."

"I don't understand, you were trying to protect them." Harry stated, trotting after the raven-haired witch.

"And I was doing a lousy job of it. All the magic in the world wouldn't have stopped the dragon hunters. They were merciless men, Harry. Murderers without feelings." Raveana halted suddenly; turning to face the crashing waves. "Reggie knew as well as I did that I would have to die for the Mage Dragons to live. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make."

"It was all a ploy?" Brows drawn down, the raven-haired wizard peered into glowing eyes that mirrored his. "You let yourself die?"

Lifting a delicate hand to restrain the curls whipping about in the wind, Raveana nodded slowly. "I died and Reggie took care of the rest. He took the Dragon's Maw and locked up my library. It was Reggie who wiped the blood from my skin and dressed me in my favourite gown." Letting go of her hair, the witch pointed at the shape emerging from the water. A dragon broke the surface with a snort, drops of water running over its nose and neck. "Now tell me, Harry, who had it worse? Me, who died. Or Reggie, who had to live?"

Narrowing his eyes on the beast slowly hauling itself from the water, Harry thought over the question and everything he'd seen in the pensieve. "So, Reginald Malfoy really loved you?" He called as the witch began to fade.

Laughter filled the air as the witch glanced over her shoulder, emerald eyes dancing brightly. "Embrace the dragon, young Harry, and you'll have what I once had but was forced to release."

"Physically or metaphysically?" Harry murmured as the dream slipped away.

XxXxX

Draco screamed as Harry vanished beneath the crashing waves. His hands snatched at the grass as he leaned forward, pale eyes wide as he searched vainly for the raven-haired wizard. When the Gryffindor failed to appear, his mind leapt into motion, thoughts conveying that he should at least attempt to rescue the other wizard. Without rethinking that thought, he leapt into action.

Drawing a deep breath, he rose shakily and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the plunge he was about to take. Exhaling slowly, he shuffled forward until the tips of his toes felt nothing and bent his knees to leap. He counted down, muscles tensing as he neared one. As he shouted the last number out, he froze, his body stiffening in rebellion.

"For Merlin's sake," he muttered angrily, opening one of his eyes and glaring down at the churning water.

The earth began to shake beneath him suddenly; thunder growling as lightening crept across the horizon. Blue eyes widening, Draco leapt back from the edge of the cliff and spun around, holding his hands out before him as the white and gold Mage hurtled out of the forest. Roaring angrily, the dragon flowed toward him, wings traced with gold unfurling. As the dragon shot past him, one of its fore paws reached out and grabbed him.

Draco screamed as he was hauled over the edge of the cliff, hands scrabbling at the rough gold talon wrapped around his waist. He sucked air into his lungs as the Mage spiraled into the sky, wings fighting against the cold wind building. Lightening crashed next to them, fingers of fire reaching toward the waves rolling under them.

A roar ringing like thunder splintered the afternoon sky as the black Mage dropped past them, wings ribbed with silver tucked close to her large body. The dragon carrying Draco answered with a screeching roar, its call deafening. Covering his ears, the blond allowed himself to be born through the air, eyes tearing from the wind whipping around him. Through his blurred vision he saw the scarlet dragon fall gracefully from the sky, the snow white Mage trailing closely.

Letting out a coughing cry, the Icefang dipped his own wings and followed, his descent causing Draco to search the ground for the reason. He rubbed his eyes as he saw the length of golden sand running beneath them, noted the group of dragons gathered upon the beach shining like expensive gems. Arching their wings and snarling, the dragons pranced elegantly as they waited. Instead of dropping him, the white dragon landed gently before placing Draco upon the beach. Furling his wings, the dragon walked over the blond to reach the clutter of dragons.

Draco pushed himself to his feet and padded toward the dragons, creeping around swinging tails and drooping wings. His mouth fell open when he saw what they were gathered around. Crying out, he rushed toward Harry's limp body, dropping to his knees in the sand and resting a trembling hand upon the wizard's chest. "Harry!" He yelled, hands digging into the red and gold Quidditch robes.

A snort drew his gaze away from the raven-haired wizard to the scarlet Mage hovering over them, its emerald eyes focused intently on Harry. "Do something!" Draco snarled, turning back and tapping one of Harry's white cheeks. When his light touch garnered no response, he drew back his hand and slapped him harder. "You're supposed to be powerful! Are you just going to let him die?" He growled, pushing a lock of damp black hair off the wizard's forehead.

A soft crooning filled the air as the Mage tipped its head, pupils dilating. Before the blond could realize what was happening, he found himself torn away from Harry and pinned against the Icefang's narrow chest. Squealing in anger, he swung his feet and slammed the heels of his boots against the beast's scaled hide. He quieted as the red dragon lowered its sleek head, halting with its mouth open inches away from Harry's chest.

The dragon exhaled slowly, eyes drifting closed as if in concentration. All of the other dragons breathed in as the scarlet breathed out, a golden glow creeping over their bodies and dancing through the air above them. A flicker of pale green dragged Draco's eyes back to Harry, his pale orbs widening as a ball of magic consumed the raven-haired wizard's body. In a rush of wind, the gold magic that had been sliding free of the Mages crashed into Harry's green encased body, sending sparks of silver flying. Two pairs of emerald eyes exploded open, lungs sucking oxygen deeply as both dragon and wizard gasped for air.

"He loved her!" Harry hissed as his eyes flew open, body jerking up and off the sand. Shaking his head, he collapsed back onto the ground, his eyes rolling as he passed out.

Draco let out a croaking laugh as the Icefang released him, collapsing to his knees next to the Gryffindor's unconscious form. Raising a hand, he wiped a finger over his cheek and stared in shock at the damp digit. Lifting his eyes, he met the shimmering orbs of the red mage and smiled slowly. "Thank you." He murmured, picking one of Harry's hands and holding it against his chest.

Around him, the Mage Dragons lifted their muzzles skyward and sang sweetly.

XxXxX

Harry opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling above him. Blinking, he gasped as everything came into focus, the room brightening in a heart's beat. Stretching cautiously, he stilled as his arm brushed the warm body cuddled against his side. Turning his head, he stared at Draco's pale face, slack in sleep. He held his breath for fear of waking the blond as he peered at his face, his eyes widening as he realized he could count every eyelash and pore upon the soft skin.

Taking a gulping breath, he slid out of bed and walked toward the window, freezing as a low hoot cut through the room. He twisted slowly around, eyes falling on the owl perched upon the corner post of the bed. "Hedwig." He said, holding out his arm. The bird dropped from its roost silently, floating toward him on wide spread wings. With light flap, the owl landed on his arm, talons digging gently into his skin.

"You found me, did you?" He murmured, running a hand over her feathers. A shiver traced its way up his spine at the feel of the feathers. Never before had he been able to liken Hedwig's feathers to the richest of velvets but tonight, under his stroking fingers, it was like caressing silk. He gasped at the realization, stepping closer to the window and lifting his gaze to the sky. The moon glowed lightly but his eyes could pick out every leaf and branch upon the trees in the distance. Separate each scale adorning Basta and Druid's sides from the ones around it.

"Are you okay?" Draco's voice cut through the silence, the rustle of sheets frighteningly loud as he slid off the bed and anxiously walked toward the raven-haired wizard.

"I don't know." Harry whispered, setting Hedwig on the ledge of the window and placing his hands carefully to either side of her. He rested his forehead upon the thick glass of the window, sighing as the cold soothed his aching skull. "Everything looks different."

Draco reached out and grabbed Harry by the chin, tipping his head and staring into his eyes. He bit his lip at the sight of the other wizard's pupils. "You're eyes, they've changed." He breathed. And indeed they had, for now Harry sported the narrow pupil of the dragon; the emerald around it shimmering like never before.

"What happened?" Harry questioned, looking away from the blond's face as a blush rode his cheeks. He brushed Draco's fingers away from his chin and peered out into the brightest night he'd ever witnessed.

"The red dragon saved you. There was green magic and gold magic then you sat up and said 'He loved her' and fainted." The blond informed, glancing at the snowy owl blinking amber orbs at him.

"Basta bonded with me?" Harry whispered, dark eyebrow arching as he stared up at the sky.

Draco gave him a confused look before shaking his head. "Sure." Reaching past the other wizard, he poked Hedwig lightly in the side. "She brought a letter from Hermione and Blaise, we should probably write back immediately."

Harry nodded in agreement, offering the white owl his wrist as Draco gestured for him to follow. The pair made their way quietly downstairs in search of a quill and some ink. Though the halls were heavily shadowed, he navigated them easily, guiding the blond around rubble and destroyed furniture without error. They ended up in the library, the sconces along the walls leaping to life as soon as they stepped into the room.

Setting Hedwig down on the mantle of the fireplace, he collapsed into one of the dusty chairs. He propped his feet up on a stack of books as Draco settled himself in the chair behind the large desk, scrabbling through the clutter in search of a writing instrument.

"I can't find a quill." The blond muttered, shooting Hedwig a calculating glance. He shrugged his shoulders when Harry frowned at him.

"Use the tip of your wand if you have to." Harry instructed, ignoring the disgusted look the other wizard shot him. Rolling his eyes at the blond's unhappy mumbles, he slid deeper into the chair and stared into the empty fireplace, picturing a roaring blaze burning upon the empty hearth. With a loud snap and whoosh, flames leapt into existence upon the stone, fiery fingers disappearing up the chimney.

"What the hell did you just do?" Draco barked, the tip of his wand dripping ink all over the piece of parchment he'd been about to write on.

Harry shook his head slowly, blinking against the glow produced by the magical blaze. "I have no idea." Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the chair. "Lets just write the letter so we can go back to bed." He mumbled, fighting back the headache that was fast blooming within his left temple.

"Don't be so bossy," muttered Draco, shooting an anxious glance at Harry before quickly beginning to write. He thought hard about everything that had happened over the past few days, including any important facts that might help Blaise and Hermione locate them on a map. He waited for the ink to dry when he was finished, glancing at Harry's still form. Chewing on his bottom lip, he waved the parchment through the air before folding it quickly. "I'm done."

Harry's eyes flew open at the sound of Draco's voice, body tensing as if he were under attack. He bobbed his head as he rose, calling Hedwig to him as he accepted the note from the blond. Using a frayed piece of ribbon, he tied the message to the owl's leg and carried her from the room.

Minutes later he watched the owl vanish into the night, her wings flapping as she gained height. Sighing, he turned and looked in the direction of the cliffs, bowing his head as he met eyes that glowed eerily like his own. A slow smile crossed his lips as he heard Draco cursing from deep within the manor, his words followed by a crash and the sound of breaking glass. Shaking his head slowly, he turned and went back inside to rescue the blond from the dark corridors of Shirestra.

XxXxX

Lucius knelt before Voldemort's throne, his hair falling over his shoulder and pooling upon the dirty floor. With every breath he drew, he inhaled the coppery smell of blood, his blond hair falling closely to the red pool inches away. His back tensed as the Dark Lord shifted, running his wand between his fingers.

"I have waited long enough, Lucius." Voldemort hissed, the narrow toe of one of his boots scuffing the ground. He reached over ad rested a bony hand atop the small box sitting next to him, fingers flipping the catch to reveal the silver flute. "It is time to call them."

Lucius pressed his lips together, darting a quick look at the wizard kneeling beside him. "My lord, he's too young." He protested, knowing the words would mean nothing to the evil wizard. His pale eyes slid shut at the sharp intake of breathing, lithe body tensing in preparation.

"You dare question me?" Voldemort snarled, the tip of his wand swinging around and leveling at the senior Malfoy. "Crucio!"

Lucius dropped to his stomach as the curse struck him, fingers scrabbling for a hand hold as his body twisted in pain. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes closed, reminding himself his son's life rested upon his shoulders. When the spell faded away, he lay on the floor gasping for air, the tips of his fingers covered with blood. "It will not happen again, my lord." He croaked, shakily pushing himself to his hands and knees.

"I will expect you to bring your son to me within the next three days. Do not fail me again, Lucius." Voldemort growled, eyes glowing red as he stared down at the blond's bent head. A low laugh escaped his lips at the blood staining the floor, pleasure over the wizard's pain colouring his devilish chuckle. "Soon, I'll have a clan of great Mage Dragons at my command and the wizarding world as its known will fall."

The Dark Lord's laughter boomed around the room, the gathered Death Eaters not knowing whether they should clap or drop to their knees in thanks. Shivering at the sound, Lucius shot the wizard beside him another look, his pale eyes locking with chips of obsidian. The slight bob the other gave was almost imperceptible but Lucius returned it just the same.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review.

NinjaoftheDarkness – lol, I'm a little bit Irish as well. And of course, give me a good reason to drink and I'm there.  
fragonknight01 – Yep, Reginald loved Raveana.  
Shinigami – Sorry for the confusion; Reggie did love Rave.  
PleiadesWolfe – Exactly!  
IvySnowe – I know cliffhangers suck . . . I just can't stop myself from writing them.  
kasmo – Remember that before Raveana bonded with Basta her eyes were blue, therefore this memory occurred before that incident. As for Reginald, I imagine he regretted what he did for the rest of his life.


	20. An Age Old Battle

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Nineteen - An Age Old Battle **

Draco awoke to the soft patter of rain on the windows. He blinked sleepily and cuddled back into the warmth pressed against him, peering through half opened eyes at the slip of gray sky visible before him. Thunder rumbled angrily somewhere in the distance, the booming sound reverberating through the old manor and shaking the glass in its frame. Sighing, the blond molded himself more firmly against Harry, ignoring the screaming voice in his head.

He lay still for several minutes, enjoying the warmth and feeling of contentment that filled the room. The feeling of being watched had him opening his eyes and twisting carefully around, expecting to find himself staring into a pair of blazing emeralds. Instead, twin balls of amber fire greeted his pale orbs.

"Go," he mumbled, waving a hand over the raven-haired wizard's body in an effort to shoo the small Sandtongue away. Groaning, he lifted a hand and pushed his hair back as the Mage pranced eagerly around to his side of the bed. Compressing his lips, Draco frowned at the little dragon. "I don't want to play with you." He informed the Sandtongue.

Hissing, the Mage reared back and balanced easily on its hind legs. Unfurling her long wings with a snap, she parted her jaws and revealed glistening fangs. Strings of highly venomous saliva slid down the dripping canines to splatter on the floor.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the threat; reaching up and pulling the silver chain free of his green and silver Quidditch jersey. Swinging back and forth upon the chain's apex, the Dragon's Maw whispered silent promises, its length shining seductively. The blond smiled as the Mage's pupils dilated, the tip of her nose shifting left and right in time with the miniature instrument. He detached the flute carefully, resting it in the palm of his hand while he searched for his wand.

Grinning at the expression of delight on the Sandtongue's face, he murmured a charm and watched as the instrument resized itself. "You want to sing, do you?" He whispered, shooting Harry's still form a quick look before sliding free of the blankets and standing. Beneath his feet the floor was cold, the hard wood retaining no warmth. Shouldering deeper into his Quidditch cloak, he crept toward the window and stared out.

Rain pounded the ground mercilessly, the trees rolling and bending with the strong wind that whistled through their branches. Along the cliff's edge, a large black form could just be seen huddled among the hissing grasses. Lightning flickered high in the sky above the manor, tendrils of gold stretching toward the choppy waters of the broiling ocean. Thunder clapped and banged fiercely, spooking the blond momentarily.

Chuckling over his own fear, Draco lifted the flute to his mouth and wiggled his fingers over the intricately engraved keys. He closed his eyes as he began to play, allowing the music to consume him. The roar of thunder and the tapping of rain faded from his ears, replaced by rounded notes and the melodic rumble of the Sandtongue. His fingers flew gracefully, landing without fault or error. Without thinking, he shifted from an old lullaby to the music recorded in the journal. Brow drawing down as he played the piece from his memory.

"Stop!" Harry barked from the bed.

Draco whirled around and lowered the flute, glaring at the raven-haired wizard with arched eyebrows. "What?" He asked sharply, his ears ringing from the high pitched squeak of a misplayed note. The silence of the room had him frowning and turning back to the window, his pale eyes widening at the sight before him.

The thunder and lightning had halted, leaving the sky empty and quiet. A gentle spring rain tinkled against the windowpane, almost nonexistent as it too drew to a finish. The sun peeped past fluffy white clouds, chasing away the dark gray shadows that had hung over the dilapidated manor.

"Merlin," the blond breathed, arms falling to his sides.

"Something's not right." Harry said, crawling across the bed to get to the window. His steps were harried as he paused next to Draco, narrowed eyes sweeping the horizon. Tipping his head as if to listen to something only he could hear, the raven-haired wizard let out a loud curse and swung around.

"What's going on?" Draco snapped, chasing after Harry as the Gryffindor swept from the room. He rolled his eyes as the other wizard shook his head, sliding the flute away in favour of being able to draw his wand with his dominant hand. "Harry, explanation please."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Harry arched an eyebrow before giving a slight bob of his head. "Something feels off. In all the time we've been here, the weather has never been bad. The Mage Dragons control the elements, Draco. That storm was created by one them."

"So?" Draco demanded in confusion, clattering down the stairs behind Harry. "Maybe they just wanted a change."

Harry snorted, breaking into a light jog as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "I highly doubt that. They spend half of their day lounging around on the cliffs basking in the sun." Shaking his head, he pushed through the front doors and halted on the stone steps. He glanced at Draco as the blond stopped next to him and tipped his head back.

"I don't see anything." The Slytherin whispered, scanning the soft blue sky for anything. Turning a full circle, he searched the horizon diligently before shaking his head.

"Do you hear anything?" Harry asked rhetorically, a smile curving his lips as the blond's gaze jumped to his.

"No."

"Exactly." Murmured the raven-haired wizard, sliding smoothly down the wet stone steps. Around them, everything was completely silent. Except for the occasional drop of rain, the lawn and forest seemed to have been abandoned. The trees should have been full of birds cheerfully calling. The overgrown gardens teeming with buzzing insects and bees but they remained seemingly empty.

A screech of pure rage cut through the silence, causing the pair to jump and whirl in the direction of the cliffs. Without thought, the pair took off around the corner of the manor, skidding on grass slicked by the pounding rain. They hurtled forward, casting anxious glances at each other as another shriek sliced the air. When the writhing grasses of the cliffs came into view, the pair slowed and walked forward cautiously.

"There," Harry snapped, a finger jerking up to point at something only he could see.

Or maybe not, Draco thought, his eyes locked on the Mage Dragons crowded together. "What do you see?" He asked quietly, stepping closer to the raven-haired wizard as the blue and silver dragon bawled loudly. The entire clan shifted nervously, opening and closing their wings while they dipped their heads in some strange dance.

Narrowing his eyes, Harry focused on the shapes hovering in the distance. "It looks like wizards on brooms." He turned and looked at Basta, noting the uneasiness with which the red dragon sat. Frowning, he shifted his gaze back to the approaching figures and examined them carefully. Under their feet, the ground rolled and pitched before resettling.

"We're saved!" Draco cried, throwing his arms around Harry's neck and squeezing tightly. Bouncing up and down in excitement, he failed to notice the tensing of the dark-haired wizard's body.

"I don't think they're here for us." Harry stated calmly, grabbing the blond's arms and tugging himself free. Reaching into his pocket, he drew his wand and began to walk closer to the dragons.

"What? Why not?" Draco whined, planting his hands on his hips and glaring at the dark dots just becoming visible to his eyes. Seeing that Harry had pulled his wand out, he groaned deeply before searching his pockets for his own.

"Because they have long bows and swords." Harry whispered bitterly.

Beyond him, Basta reared up on his back legs and screamed, wings lined with gold unfurling in a crash. Druid and Silverhawk answered the call, their rasping cries twining together and shaking the earth as they lashed their long tails in warning. From her place within the group, Black Lady opened her wings and launched herself into the sky, rolling thunder sliding from her parted jaws. Hissing and spitting, both F'lar and F'lor cat called, one picking up the battle cry when the other slowed.

"They're after the dragons." Draco breathed, icy eyes flickering from the massive Mages to the figures speeding toward them.

XxXxX

The Great Hall was fairly quiet as everyone ate their lunch. What once might have been an unusual occurrence now seemed to be the norm for the students as they gazed silently into their plates. Other than the odd scrap of a fork or knife, everyone remained relatively silent.

A sudden outcry drew Blaise from his reverie, eyes immediately searching out the cause for the rumble of voices. His mouth fell open at the sight of a blur of white feathers hurtling toward the Gryffindor Table. Hooting wildly, the snowy owl settled gracefully on the table before Hermione and extended her leg.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore called, rising with a frown.

The witch straightened, her eyes widening as she fumbled the message and dropped it to the floor. Both Ron and the brown haired girl ducked under the table to retrieve it, emerging moments later with Hermione clutching the piece of pale parchment and Ron rubbing the top of his head.

"Please bring that note here. We're currently under quarantine, you know the rules." The old wizard rumbled, holding his hand out as the witch slid free of the bench and walked sorrowfully toward him.

"I apologize, professor." Hermione whispered, presenting the perfect picture of a good and honourable Gryffindor. She laid the note in his hand and hurried back to her house table, pausing only to snatch up her bag before fleeing the Great Hall with Ron close on her heels.

Blaise elbowed Pansy and rose, picking up his books and mincing from the hall without so much as a glance at the head table. A smile slid over his lips as he turned toward the entrance doors and saw Hermione and Ron waiting impatiently for them. Arching an eyebrow, he saw the brown haired witch give a quick nod before slipping through the door and outside. By the time the pair of Slytherins got onto the steps that led out onto the narrow driveway, the Gryffindor witch had already unfolded the note and was reading it with teary eyes.

"They're okay," she announced, handing the message to Blaise so he could read it for himself. Shifting her gaze to the lawn, she froze and narrowed her eyes. "Is that Lucius Malfoy?"

Blaise looked up and stared slack-jawed as the tall blond stalked toward them, his long black cloak whipping around him. Flicking his gaze to the Gryffindors, he whispered, "disappear."

"We'll catch up with you later," Hermione stated, grabbing her bag and Ron and dragging them back inside.

"Good afternoon, Mister Malfoy." Pansy called, waving cheerfully as the older wizard frowned and glared at them.

"Where's Draco, Blaise?" Lucius Malfoy snapped, cane dangling threateningly between two of his fingers.

"Ah, Dumbledore. He's with Professor Dumbledore." Blaise said. Smiling he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket before stepping back and opening the front door for the blond. He cringed as the senior Malfoy swept past him and prowled down the hall.

"That's the best you could come up with?" Pansy sneered.

"Sadly, yes." Blaise grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's waist and swung her around. "Let's go find Hermione and Ron."

XxXxX

"What do we do?" Draco asked, anger making his voice quiver. Narrowing pale eyes, he ran his wand through his fingers and searched the sky for the black dragon. A smirk curved his lips as he located the Mage, her sleek form circling high above the gathered clan.

Harry smiled grimly and waved his wand absently before him. "We fight," he announced calmly, turning his head and peering at the blond. Arching an eyebrow in silent question, he continued to walk quickly toward the dragons.

"Ah, Harry? I think you should rethink that plan." Draco muttered, wincing as he counted the wizards who appeared to be regrouping a short distance off. Under the sun's rays, the blades of swords glinted, whispering promises of death and pain.

"You have a better plan?" Harry called back, halting in a defensive position before Basta. Without thought, he rubbed his fingers together, coaxing the scarlet dragon to his side. He was faintly surprised when the entire clan moved forward, grumbling and hissing as they followed the flying wizards with their bright eyes.

"The manor wards! You're a Potter! Activate the wards." Draco yelled, snapping his fingers together. He bit his bottom lip as the dark-haired wizard shot him a startled look, emerald eyes widening in understanding.

Before he had a chance to respond, Basta stretched out his neck and roared. Harry was grabbed unceremoniously by golden talons and hauled tightly against the dragon's chest, red wings coming forward to shield him from the blur of lavender magic hurtling toward them. "No time!" He cried blindly, hearing the charm connect with Basta's scales.

Taking offense to the strike, Druid screeched and broke from the pack, powerful wings lifting him into the sky. Harry heard more than saw the Mage's departure, his eyes filled with dark red scales as Basta attempted to protect him.

Magic crawled through the air in a wave, bending back the branches of trees and setting his hair to twisting in the wind. In a show of strength, the red dragon lifted his wings suddenly and leapt into the air. The rasp and thunder of half a dozen other wings unfurling filled his ears, setting his eyes to searching for Draco. He heaved a relieved sigh when he found the blond tucked against Silverhawk's chest, the small dragon climbing at an amazing speed.

Basta sideslipped quickly, blowing past a wizard wielding a long blade. Harry's mouth fell open as the man swung blindly at the dragon. "Stop!" He screamed angrily, wiggling in hopes of getting his right arm out from under one of the dragon's clutching talons. His wand was useless he realized, dragging air into his lungs as the dragon performed an aerial maneuver that would have had seekers everywhere drooling to perform.

Their attackers were blindly throwing charms and curses, the magic flying through the air and spattering against heavily armored sides and wings. The attacks seemed to have no affect on the dragons, merely forcing them to fly harder and deflect magic quicker.

Harry saw Druid dip sharply and open his mouth, white fire spilling from his parted jaws as he mercilessly struck at the wizard harassing F'lar. The icy magic connected with the tail of the broom, creeping slowly up the handle toward the man who was watching its assent with wide eyes. In a crack, the brook faltered and began to fall toward the rolling water of the ocean, carrying its screaming rider with it.

A blur of blue magic filled Harry's vision suddenly and he screeched in fear, feeling Basta's talons loosen around him. For the second time in his life, he found himself dropping toward the ground, his arms and legs swinging wildly. Warmth bathed his legs, followed by dozens of tiny daggers that buried themselves deeply into the muscles of his left calf. Twisting as his descent was slowed, the raven-haired wizard peered thankfully into Esdra's twinkling amber eyes.

His eyes jerked up as a ball of green sped through the air on a crash course with them. He raised his hand as if to halt the magic, crying out loudly as fire crawled up his arm. His ears rang with the piercing whistle of magic, eyes widening as a wave of black reached out and consumed the ball of green. And then he was falling again, his weight having become to much for the small Sandtongue to bear.

The wizard who had flung the magic at him cried out loudly, pointing the tip of his broom after Harry and dropping into a hair-raising dive. Roaring angrily, Basta shot past the wizard, wings tucked close to his sides for maximum speed. Reaching upward, Harry caught at the extended talon, allowing his body to be jerked up against the dragon's chest as they rolled over and buzzed along above the choppy waters of the ocean. Water exploded upward in their wake, a dragon with a metallic blue hide shooting free of the ocean's grasp and snapping blindly at the wizard.

Basta flipped neatly over and flared his wings, circling back in the direction of Shirestra. Above him, the other dragon's fell in quickly, all of them winging toward the safety of the manor's grounds. Snarls and roars bounced around as the dragons dipped and twined in a deadly dance, barely managing to avoid each other at times.

The edge of the cliff appeared suddenly beneath them, the grasses fanning in welcome as the dragons dropped to earth. As soon as Basta's back legs touched the ground, a wall of fiery green magic erupted from the soil and enveloped the clan, growing steadily larger as Harry was set gently upon the ground. Shaking his head to get rid of the stars blurring his gaze, the raven-haired wizard looked at the wall and grinned. "The wards!" He called to Draco as the blond was dropped to the waving grass.

Draco nodded in agreement, his pale eyes following the length of pulsing magic that swept into the sky and completely covered the manor and all of its grounds. "I suppose Basta was able to awaken them." He mumbled, rolling over and rubbing his pale face as Harry walked toward him. Sudden hollering had both wizards jumping and looking in the direction of the mob gathered outside the magic wall.

It was a scene Harry could've sworn he'd seen before; the wizards milling outside the pulsing wards as the dragons took solace within. Panting, he walked toward Draco and pulled the blond to his feet, checking him over for any injuries before returning his gaze to the shouting crowd banging upon his wards. "Go away!" He roared, cringing as Basta bellowed for emphasis. Silence settled as the wizards beyond the gates looked at each other, talking softly before frowning in his direction.

"Harry Potter!" Alastor Moody yelled, limping closer to the glowing wards. "Get out here!"

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! 

RoughIslandSunrise - Well, this chapter answers your first question. As for the ring and flute, I think Draco will most likely keep the instrument seeing as Harry can't play the flute and Draco can.  
DestinyEntwinements - lol, that's going to put a major cramp in his plan, eh?  
kasmo - Metaphysically means visionary, so kinda like how he's been talking to Raveana. Apologies for the spelling mistakes, I guess I was having a bad week and was in a hurry to get it uploaded.  
Evil Ball of Fluff - lol, me too. Poor guy . . .  
Beth Weasley - lol, that's alright. I'm glad you're still enjoying it. As for your dragon, it did make an appearance in this chapter and a brief appearance in the last one. I'll be introducing him or her in the next chapter.  
fragonknight01 - lol, I'm a sap when it comes to love stories. And Lucius, well, I guess we're going to have to pity him, especially after what's going to happen over the next few chapters.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - I can't really say who the bottom in this relationship is. Sometimes I have a hard time deciding so I end up switching them and their behaviour back and forth. lol, I'm a little Irish, a little Scot, a sliver of french, a whole lotta Dutch, and 100 percent Canadian!


	21. In the Presence of Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Twenty - In the Presence of Dragons**

Harry stiffened as the order ricocheted through the air, hands balling into fists at his sides as he spun slowly to face the older wizard. Behind him the dragons rumbled anxiously, their fluttering wings stirring the grasses. Eyes blazing angrily, he stalked toward the pulsing green wards and sneered. A hand on his shoulder stopped his forward march, brought his eyes around to meet icy orbs gleaming with fiery determination.

"They can't pass through the wards unless they're invited." Draco murmured, tightening his grip in a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall away. Frowning, he crossed his arms and studied the quietly arguing group, his wand still dangling threateningly from his fingers. "Your call, Harry."

Drawing a deep breath, Harry glanced over his shoulder at the clan of Mage Dragons. Under his gaze, they hissed and dipped their heads, wings churning slowly. Gritting his teeth, he drew himself up and prowled gracefully forward with Draco following closely at his heels. "Moody," he greeted in a relatively calm voice. Tightening his fingers around his wand, he tipped his chin up and arched an eyebrow. "What can we do for you?" His question was met with stunned silence.

"What can we do for you?" Moody parroted, magical eye swirling in its socket. Shaking his head, he hobbled closer toward the glowing wards and extended a hand, cautiously testing their strength.

"Yes, I'm assuming something brought you here." Harry called, shooting Draco a quick look as the blond drew even with him.

"You've been missing for half a week, boy!" Roared Moody, jerking his hand back as the wards lashed out at him. Gritting his teeth, he yanked his wand from its sheath and leveled it at the wards, managing to point it in Draco's general direction at the same time. "Dumbledore has an entire division of the Aurors out looking for you and Malfoy and you ask me what I'm doing here!" The spell he snapped slammed into the wards, only to dissipate in a shimmer of magic.

"I see you're in no mood to talk." Harry commented with a shake of his head. Sighing heavily, he grabbed Draco by the elbow and turned the pair of them around, making the entire movement elegant as he slipped his arm through the blond's. "We'll come back later, after you've had a chance to calm down."

"Potter, get back here!" Mad Eye hollered, waving his wand in warning. Before he was given another chance to hex the wards, the swirling magic reached out and crashed into him, tossing him away from the transparent green wall.

"Now what do we do?" Draco asked, fingers absently rubbing at a stain on the arm of the raven-haired wizard's Quidditch jersey. He frowned when he received no answer, lifting his gaze to meet the glowing emerald's that were focused on their entwined arms. "Harry?"

Giving the blond a bitter smile, Harry turned his eyes to the dragons following quickly after them. "We wait," he breathed, sheathing his wand. Clearing his throat, he led the way into the dark manor and closed the door after Draco. "Moody will firecall Dumbledore. I'd rather deal directly with him than anyone else."

"So that's your plan? Wait for Dumbledore to come and get you?" Draco asked in astonishment. He unlinked their arms and slid his wand away, trailing after the Gryffindor as he glided silently down the corridor toward the library. Wincing as he bashed his toe off the leg of a collapsing side table, he shook his head and bent down to examine the injury.

Harry halted in front of the open library doors, turning around and searching for the blond crouched among the shadows. "No, that's part one of my plan. You don't actually think I'd just leave the dragons here, do you? Those wizards out there aren't going to leave until the Mages are gone." Frowning, he walked back to the blond and knelt beside him. "Dumbledore has influence with the Ministry as well as other high ranking officials."

"So?" Draco demanded, pulling his hands away from his foot and letting Harry peel his boot off. He hissed as the raven-haired wizard closed cold fingers around his aching toes, attempting to bat his tanned hands away.

"Simple, I get the dragons and Dumbledore gets me. If Dumbledore won't do anything to ensure their protection, I'll be forced to remain here and see to their safety." Harry explained softly, fingers smoothing over the delicate bones of the blond's foot. Sliding his fingers soothingly over the reddened toes, he glanced up at the Slytherin and arched an eyebrow in question.

"And that's your plan? Your one and only plan? See, to me, that sounds like a plan F, as in we're completely fu-" Draco began. His mouth snapped closed when Harry's flew open in shock, emerald eyes shimmering with amusement. "They're not broken." He snapped, trying to tug his foot away from Harry's caressing fingers.

"Yes, that's my plan, unless you'd care to contribute?" Harry asked, wrapping his hand around Draco's ankle to halt his jerky movements. When the blond stilled and crossed his arms, he released him and picked up the dirty sock lying on the floor at his feet. Straightening it carefully, he rested the blond's heel in his lap while sliding the sock back over his abused toes.

Cheeks reddening over the other wizard's gentle tending of his foot, Draco shook his head. "No." He grumbled, lifting his gaze as Harry straightened liquidly in front of him. He accepted the proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, immediately shaking his robes free of dirt and dust picked up from the gritty floor.

"Then that's the plan." Harry murmured, swirling around and continuing down the dark hall. His feet led him unerringly through the shadows, his heightened senses guiding him around any obstacles. Behind him, Draco stumbled along, muttering and complaining loudly the entire time.

"So what do we do for now?" Draco queried as they arrived in the hall beside the kitchen.

"Do what you want. I have no idea how long we'll have to wait for Dumbledore to get here." Running his hands down his robes, Harry shot Draco a quick look before moving closer to the door that led out into the back garden where the small well was located. "I'll be outside if you need me."

Without waiting for a reply, he pushed through the little door and allowed it to slam closed behind him. Tipping his head back, he stared at the pale sky. Sighing softly, he glided further into the overgrown garden and turned his gaze in the direction of the cliffs.

The dragons were huddled upon the twisting grasses, their wings opened to catch the sun's warm light. Even though they looked to be completely at ease, he could see the tension running through them. Druid and F'lor were positioned on opposite sides of the clan, their heads constantly moving as they searched for danger. And above them, the green wards rippled and flexed, providing some measure of protection.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry strode toward them. This might just be his last chance to play around with the bond between himself and Basta and if something bad did happen, he wanted to be able to utilize it to the best of his abilities. And perhaps there was a part of him that craved the warmth and contentment that came when he was within their presence. As if by merely being related to Raveana earned him their unconditional love.

XxXxX

Lucius Malfoy stalked up the steps that led into Albus Dumbledore's office, his long dark cloak billowing around him. His cane tapped rhythmically upon the stone as he moved, the noise heralding his arrival. Halting before the door at the top of the stairs, he lifted a hand and smoothed his hair back. Inhaling deeply, he pasted his grimmest look on his face and raised a hand to knock.

"Ah, Lucius." Dumbledore called from behind his desk. He rose as the blond glided gracefully into the room, blue eyes scanning the office before landing with an arched brow on him.

"I was informed that my son was with you." Lucius stated calmly, trekking forward and seating himself in one of the red chairs before the large desk. He took a moment to arrange his cloak around his lithe body, flipping his hair over his shoulder and leaning the cane he carried on the front panel of the desk.

"Who was it you spoke with?" Dumbledore asked curiously, wrapping his hands around the tepid cup of tea resting atop a pile of papers on his desk.

"Mister Zabini." Lucius answered sharply, narrowing his eyes as the older wizard smiled and shook his head in amusement. Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, the blond crossed his legs and clasped his hands together in his lap.

"I'm afraid that Mister Zabini was incorrect. Draco is not here at the moment," Albus said vaguely as he sipped his tea. Sitting back in his soft chair, he glanced at the phoenix watching sleepily from its perch and sighed. "Why have you come to Hogwarts, Lucius?"

"I'm afraid I no longer find this school appropriate for my son. I've already spoken with the headmaster of Durmstrang and he has been persuaded to take Draco on immediately. So, if you would kindly alert my son to my presence, we'll be leaving." Lucius announced as he rose abruptly and shook out his robes.

Dumbledore blanched and straightened in his chair. Raising a hand, he smoothed his beard before placing the cup of tea back in its saucer. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Lucius." He began. The sudden flaring of the fire had him pausing and rising slowly to approach the crackling blaze. Settling a hand on the mantle, he leaned closer to the orange flames as a face appeared in the ashes.

"Albus!" Alastor Moody shouted, his face twisting as he turned to talk to someone behind him. He reappeared seconds later, magical eye swirling as he stared up at the older wizard.

"Alastor." Albus greeted, grabbing his beard as the gray hair swung dangerously close to the writhing flames. Using his other hand, he pushed his glasses up his nose. The soft sound of robes hissing over the stone turned his head and drew his gaze to the blond wizard waiting impatiently behind him.

"We've found them." Crowed the Auror as a smile transformed his face. "They're at an old manor out near Owl's Glen."

Dumbledore smiled as he straightened and backed away from the fire. Behind him, Fawkes tilted his head and crooned happily, flapping his brilliant scarlet wings. "That's wonderful news, Alastor. How soon can you get them back here?"

"That's going to be a bit of a problem, Albus." Moody muttered, his eyes shifting to the wizard standing next to the headmaster. "They're warded up inside the manor and won't come out. I think you're probably going to have to come and attend to this matter yourself."

Albus sighed and put a hand to his aching back. "We'll floo over in a couple of minutes. I need to tell Minerva I'll be out of the office for the rest of the afternoon." Giving a nod of finality, he watched as other wizard's face disappeared from the fire. Turning slowly, he met the questioning eyes of Lucius.

"Care to tell me what's been going on here?" Lucius asked, fingers tightening around the length of his cane.

"During the Quidditch game several days ago, both your son and Harry Potter were snatched by a pair of dragons." Dumbledore explained, tensing as Lucius let out a low hiss and stepped back to sink into the chair he had abandoned earlier. "However, they've just been located. If you'd like to accompany me to their current whereabouts . . ."

Lucius pushed down the feeling of horror that was rising within him, standing and smoothing his robes back into place as he gave a brief nod of his head. Draco had already called the Mage Dragons . . . and they had actually answered. Shivering, he dipped his hand into the floo powder and followed Albus, praying that Draco was safe and unharmed.

XxXxX

Draco walked into the large bedroom he and Harry had been sharing for the last few nights. Ignoring the blush that rose to his cheeks over the thought, he walked toward the window and peered in the direction of the cliffs. A slow smile crept over his lips at the sight of Harry rolling around on the ground with Esdra, the pair tussling roughly on the grass. Around them, the other dragons watched in a combination of amusement and concern, their wings stretched across the hissing sea of green.

His enjoyment of the pair playing was broken when a bad smell managed to find its way to his nose. Frowning, he glanced around and wrinkled his nose. Sniffing delicately, he tried to figure out where the nasty smell was coming from before cringing and slowly lifting his arm. Making a face at the reek of sweat, must, dragons, and dirt clinging to him, he began to shed his clothes. "Disgusting," he announced to the empty room, kicking the pile of clothes away from him.

Standing naked in the center of the room, he gazed around unhappily before seizing a sheet off the bed and wrapping it around his body. Shouldering deeper into the mass of silver, he glanced down at the floor and wiggled his toes. Shrugging his shoulders, he looked back out the window, searching for Harry among the gleaming hides of the Mages.

When he failed to find him, he pressed closer to the window, yesterday's events flashing through his mind. Shaking his head, he fled the room with the intention of finding Harry before he did anything stupid again. After making a brief stop in the kitchens, he continued on his way, using one hand to hold the length of silver off the ground. When he pushed his way outside, he was delighted to find that the air had grown warmer, as if the warding was containing the heat from the dragons and the sun.

He found Harry sitting dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, his legs hanging over the edge as he glared out at the turbulent ocean. The raven-haired wizard turned suddenly, locking eyes with Draco as he tiptoed across the grass. Smirking, Draco held his right hand up, revealing the bottle of wine he had retrieved from the small cellar. "1558," he informed Harry with an evil grin.

"Let me guess," Harry said, arching an eyebrow as he accepted the bottle from the blond. "An excellent year?"

"Perfect." Draco replied seriously, seating himself next to the other wizard. He tugged his arm loose of the gray sheet and yanked his wand free of the mass of cloth before giving the bottle of wine a light tap on the cork. Tugging it free of Harry's hands, he raised it to his mouth and took a slow, cautious sip.

"You're not going to get drunk again, are you?" Harry asked, shooting a quick look at the sheet the blond was currently draped in. Shaking his head in amusement, he reclaimed the bottle and took a small sip.

Yawning, Draco slumped backwards and stretched luxuriously against the cool grass. "Nope," he replied with a smirk, rolling his eyes so he could peer at the dragons lazing in the sun. Frowning suddenly, he rolled over and pushed himself up on his elbows. The whisper of cool air against the backs of his thighs had him stilling. A discreet brush of warm fingers heralded the light tug as the sheet was pulled lower, the same hand rubbing against the soft skin behind his knee in an absent caress. "That dragon, I hadn't seen if before this morning."

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the dragon the blond was pointing at. "Neither had I," he said quietly, taking another swallow of wine before passing the bottle back to the Slytherin. "In Raveana's diary, she mentioned something about there being other dragons but I figured they would have been killed after her death."

Wrapping his hand around the neck of slim bottle, Draco tipped his head and observed the sleek dragon. "I don't know how they ever thought they could kill them all. Mage Dragons are amazingly powerful, their ability to wrap their magic around their bodies should have been enough to keep them alive." Running his tongue over his lips, Draco took a mouthful of wine and swallowed loudly. He rested his chin on the mouth of the bottle, watching the dragons thoughtfully. "Maybe the records are wrong. Maybe the remaining dragons just disappeared."

Harry nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around his waist as he turned to peer back out at the ocean. In the time that he had been at Shirestra, he had seen the Mage Dragons vanish among the rolling waters with ease, disappear beneath the broiling waters in an insane game of hide and seek. "Maybe you're right." He said, collapsing backwards and staring up at the sky. Rolling his head to the side, he stared at Draco. "What if there are more dragons?"

Draco lifted his chin off of his hands and tipped his head down to meet Harry's penetrating green gaze. "Wouldn't they have come with the others? Or when I played the Dragon's Maw?" He questioned before taking another quick drink.

Harry shook his head and sighed. Turning his gaze back to the sky, he watched from behind the shimmering green wards as clouds slowly drifted across the blue expanse. There was so much they didn't know about the Mage Dragons. Perhaps there were other dragons waiting to be called, waiting for the all's clear from Basta before revealing themselves to the population of the wizarding world. Allowing his eyes to drift closed; he dozed in the sunlight, enjoying the presence of the dragons and Draco.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

Kindall Sidera - Glad you're enjoying it.  
PleiadesWolfe - lol, I think I managed to answer all of your questions with this chapter.  
fraewyn - Originally their intentions were to kill the Mage Dragons, however, Harry's presence put a halt to that idea. You've got the pronunciation of Raveana's name right, though I do believe there are two ways to say it. I tend to bounce back and forth between the pair.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - lol, it is indeed a wonderful country. I like a much more dominant Draco but generally I tend to write strong/dominant Harry instead.  
sbkar - lol, I'm afraid after the next chapter clothes and the manor will no longer be a problem.  
Shinigami - Harry will definitely have a lot of help defending the dragons, especially after having a chat with Dumbles.


	22. Defending Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One - Defending Dragons**

It was an annoyed hiss that had Harry opening his eyes and sitting up, glancing in the direction of the sunbatheing dragons. Scanning the slowly stirring beasts, he narrowed his eyes and nudged Draco just as the threatening hiss was repeated. Ignoring the blond's unhappy grumbles, he rose to his feet and walked toward the Mages. Both Black Lady and Silverhawk had their shimmering eyes focused on something in the sky, their angular heads twisting and turning fluidly. Parting her jaws, the black dragon snarled and slammed her tail against the ground while arching her long neck.

A shadow raced toward him across the grass, the bulky black outline causing him to tense his shoulders and tilt his head back. Smiling grimly, he nodded his head in greeting to the wizard hovering above him. "Cooled down, have you?" He asked quietly, watching as the transparent green wall that separated them stretched tendrils of power toward the trailing end of the older wizard's dark cloak.

"Potter, Dumbledore wants to speak with you." Mad Eye Moody stated calmly, his good eye locked on the blond sprawled next to the raven-haired wizard. Tightening his grip on the broomstick he sat upon, he tipped his head in the direction of the front gates. "And Malfoy's father is here for him."

Draco sat up suddenly, the silver sheet pooling around his waist. Blue eyes widening, he clambered to his feet and barely managed to catch the sheet before it floated to the ground. "My father?" He croaked as his face paled.

Moody gave a sharp nod of his head, magic eye swirling to peer beneath him. "They're waiting for the pair of you." He said, floating higher on the broom to avoid the magic creeping slowly toward him. Tipping his head, he studied the younger wizards before shaking his head and speeding off.

"I suppose we should go and meet them," Harry murmured, turning to face Draco. Pursing his lips, he lifted a hand and brushed his fingers through his hair, only managing to rumple the already messy dark locks.

"My father." Draco repeated, wrapping the sheet artfully around his lithe body. Patting the knotted ends of the sheet to make sure they were secure, he bent over and picked up the empty wine bottle. Straightening, he allowed the bottle to dangle from his right hand while sliding his other hand over his face. "This isn't going to end well." The blond predicted.

"Probably not," Harry agreed with a heavy sigh. Without thought, he offered the blond his hand and coloured when it was taken. Clearing his throat, he tightened his grip on the cool fingers and headed toward the old manor. His shoulders tensed at the sudden clatter that began as they walked away; the crack of wings and rasp of scales as the dragons unwound themselves and fell in behind the pair.

"This probably doesn't look good." Draco mumbled, indicating the sheet he was draped in and the empty bottle of wine he still held loosely. Shaking his head, he tipped his chin up and squared his shoulders, pasting a knowing smirk on his lips as his quick gait changed to a leisurely stroll.

"Oh, it looks good, it's just not appropriate right now." Harry whispered, snickering as the blond's cheeks flushed and he tugged his hand away. Still chuckling softly, he pulled on the front of his Quidditch jersey and tried to erase the wrinkles and mud that covered the material. His attempt to repair several days' worth of damage had the blond snorting in amusement and brandishing his wand.

"You may as well leave it for the house elves. There's not a spell in my repertoire that will erase stains that bad." Draco commented, scratching at the patch of dried dirt on the back of his hand.

The pair walked around the corner of Shirestra and paused; searching the crowd gathered before the gates for the wizards they had come to see. Their appearance caused a stir among the group, raising hands and voices. Resisting the urge to turn around and walked inside, they shared a steadying look and nodded their head heads in agreement. It had to end today.

A flash of silvery blond hair turned Harry's head and had him gritting his teeth at the forbidding picture Lucius Malfoy cast. "There's your father," he murmured, indicating his position with a tip of his chin. "And Dumbledore is right next to him."

"How cozy," Draco muttered, giving Harry's sleeve a quick tug as he began to walk forward. The raven-haired wizard fell in beside him, his fingers dropping toward his wand in search of its comforting length. Frowning, the blond grabbed the patting hand and squeezed the fingers in warning. "Don't act nervous, act like you're in the superior position. You have everything to gain from remaining here, remember that because they'll try and convince you otherwise."

Harry bobbed his head as they approached the waiting wizards, clasping his hands together before him. "Hello, Professor, Mister Malfoy." He greeted, bowing his head politely. Next to him, Draco mirrored his gesture, accompanying the motion with an insincere 'it's good to see you'.

"Boys," Dumbledore said firmly, managing to make the one word into a reprimand. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he looked the pair over, taking in Draco's sheet clad body with an arched eyebrow. "Might I ask the current location of your clothes, Mister Malfoy?"

"They're on the bedroom floor," Draco purred suggestively, crossing his arms and cocking his head in an arrogant manner. "Did you really come all this way to ask me about my clothing? If you did, I might have several helpful suggestions for you." He ran his gaze up and down the older wizard's robes, internally cringing over the pattern of moons and stars.

"Draco," Lucius hissed, pale eyes widening in warning. His cane ground a small hole in the dirt as he rolled it between his hands in a repetitive motion.

Ignoring the play between the blonds, the raven-haired wizard lifted his chin and smiled faintly. "Professor, let's be frank, shall we?" Harry stated, gliding forward several steps. "I'm not leaving until you can assure me that my dragons will be safe." A smile curved his lips as the group of wizards gathered behind the professor gasped and started to argue angrily amongst themselves.

"Harry, the Mage Dragons are on the Ministry's Extremely Dangerous Creatures list. I'm afraid that I cannot promise you any such thing." Albus said, holding up his hands for silence as the groups volume increased.

"Then I'm afraid I'm done speaking with you," Harry returned, walking backwards with his hands held out before him.

"I cannot promise you their safety here, however, if you are able to control them, then I shall allow you to bring them to Hogwarts." Dumbledore stated suddenly, taking a slow step backwards.

"They can't remain at Hogwarts forever." Harry stated, pausing beside Draco. He wondered why the older wizard was being so agreeable until he felt a gust of warm air bathe the back of his neck. His peripheral vision was suddenly filled with red scales as Basta stretched his head past him and hissed at the wizards beyond the wards.

It was Lucius Malfoy who responded to Harry's words, taking an easy step forward and folding his hands atop the silver head of his cane. "I shall handle the details of the dragons safety, Potter." The blond said, glancing at his son who gave a faint bob of his head in thanks. "Draco, gather your things so that we might leave."

"Where are we going?" Draco inquired, pulling the sheet closer to his body and tightening his grip around the neck of the bottle. He exchanged a quick look with Harry as his father glanced at Dumbledore, the older wizards sharing a long look before turning back to the two boys.

"You're being transferred to Durmstrang," Lucius announced, widening his eyes and arching an eyebrow as if to suppress any argument his son might have attempted. "All of your stuff is already on the way there."

"Give me a few minutes." The younger blond replied, nodding his head in acceptance. Bowing deeply, he straightened and turned to head toward the manor, grabbing Harry by the front of his jersey as he swept past him. "Come on, Potter." He mumbled, absently patting Silverhawk on the chest as they walked between the large dragons.

A flabbergasted Harry allowed himself to be pulled along, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Did we win?" He asked in confusion, slapping the blond's hand away from the front of his robes and falling into step beside him.

Draco gave a small smile and tipped his head back, glancing at the pale sky. "You can thank me later," he said as they climbed the stairs at the front of the manor. The doors groaned open under his hands, allowing light to spill into the darkened entrance hall. "It's up to you to see that the dragons remain safe. Pansy and Blaise will also have to be informed of what has occurred."

Harry blinked as his mind replayed the last few minutes, remembering what Lucius Malfoy had said after promising him that the Mage Dragons would be safe. Draco was being transferred to Durmstrang, or at least that's what the older wizard was telling everyone. Shaking his head, he stormed into the large bedroom and went straight for Draco.

"You don't have to do this, Draco." Harry snapped, grabbing the blond by the shoulders and giving him a hard shake. His brow drew down when the Slytherin smiled and placed a calming hand on his cheek instead of pushing away his bruising hands.

"Yes, I do." Draco breathed, patting the raven-haired wizard lightly before turning around and unwinding his sheet. He let the silver cloth drift to the floor as he bent to pick up his dirty clothes, cringing at the smell rising from the garments. Tossing the jersey on the bed, he pulled the tight white pants on one leg at a time. "Blood may mean nothing to you, Harry, but to me and my family . . . it's everything."

"Draco, nothing good can come of this." Harry hissed, stepping back and pacing the length of the room. He let out a harsh cry and whirled around, hands held before him in a placating gesture. "You're safe here, within the wards."

Smiling wryly, Draco sat down on the bed and grabbed his boots. "I can't hide forever." He murmured, sliding his left foot into the coordinating boot. His fingers flew over the laces, pulling the cords tight until he reached the buckles above his knees. Running a finger over the shining metal, he lifted his gaze and stared at the wizard standing across the room. "Neither can you; Harry Potter can't just disappear. What did you think was going to happen?"

Huffing angrily, Harry threaded his fingers through his hair and tipped his head back. "I sure as hell didn't think your father would come and withdraw you from Hogwarts." Shaking his head, he stomped back and forth tugging gently on his hair with each stride.

"Calm down, there's nothing that can be done about it." Draco soothed, wiggling into his second boot. He ran a hand down the side of the dark leather, fingers brushing away old dirt and grime.

"I can protect you," Harry said, collapsing onto the bed next to the blond. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his wand, clenching the wood tightly as he stared at the patch of floor between his boots. "You are the carrier of the Dragon's Maw, that assures you the protection of the Mages."

"But who will protect my parents?" Draco questioned quietly, beginning to work on his boot laces. A small smile crossed his lips at Harry's silence. "Exactly," he mumbled, flicking the buckle into place and standing.

Rubbing his face with both hands, Harry sighed and cupped his forehead with his palm. "What are you going to do?" He asked finally, exhaling heavily. The sound of Draco's boots on the floor had him rising and turning around, hands settling on his hips as he watched the blond search for the rest of his clothing.

"Whatever I have too." The blond said firmly, grabbing his jersey from under the silver sheet and giving it a hard shake in hopes of freeing it of some of the dirt. Deciding it was a lost cause, he pulled the shirt on over his head, hands running down his chest to guide the green cloth into place. He snatched the cloak from where he'd flung it earlier, draping it across his arm as he spun around and left the room.

Harry followed Draco quietly, internally attempting to come up with something else that might convince the blond to change his mind. The halls they passed down were oddly silent, as if the manor itself was mad over both wizards' looming departures. "You're sure this is what you have to do?" He demanded as they came to a halt in the foyar. Resuming his pacing, he tapped his chin and ignored the blond's soft chuckle.

Draco turned around to face the other wizard, fingers tightening in the cloak he carried. "Just promise me that when I call, you'll come." He said, meeting the raven-haired wizard's gleaming emerald eyes.

"Promise." Harry said quietly, prowling closer to the blond. He paused when the tips of their boots brushed, lifting a slightly shaky hand to brush a lock of pale hair off Draco's forehead. His fingers strayed over the other wizard's temple, caressing the side of his face as he stared into eyes the palest of blue.

Draco caught Harry's hand and held it to his cheek for a moment before pressing a quick kiss against the tanned digits. "Be good," he breathed. Stepping back, he reached out and ran a slender finger over the raven-haired wizard's chin. "Goodbye, Harry." Bowing his head, he turned on the heel of his boot and stalked through the doors, pushing them wide open as he glided forward with his chin in the air.

"Goodbye, Draco." Harry whispered, following the blond slowly. Halting on the top stair, he watched the Slytherin swagger toward the older wizards, the wind stirring his hair and yanking on the cloak he hugged to his chest.

He watched Draco glide down the gravel driveway, the faint sound of crunching stone ringing in his ears. His lips pressed together, Harry sank slowly to sit on the stairs, clenching his fingers around the edge of the stone he perched on. The iron gates swung open before the Slytherin, brilliant green wards fading until they were nothing more than a memory. A light croon turned his head and had him smiling faintly, extending a hand to the small golden dragon concealed within the shadows of the doorway.

As the Sandtongue slipped beneath his reaching hand, he turned his gaze back to the scene unfolding at the end of the driveway. Firming his lips, he watched as Lucius Malfoy reached out and placed a restraining hand on his son's shoulder, pulling him closer in a subtle maneuver.

From his father's shadow, Draco lifted a pale hand and wiggled his fingers in a silent goodbye before reaching out and resting his hand on top of his fathers. The pair disappeared in a small flash, leaving the raven-haired wizard staring at an empty spot on the road running past the manor.

Upon the cliffs, one of the dragons screamed, its haunting cry carried on the warm wind. Even as the call fell away, another rose to take its place, filling the silence. Next to him, Esdra lifted her muzzle and screeched, her amber eyes on the individuals walking somberly toward them. "Go," Harry ordered, his hand slipping down the animal's sleek body as she launched herself into the sky with a powerful flick of her wings.

"Are you ready to go, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, resting a hand on his head as the gust of wind from the Sandtongue's takeoff sent the pointy hat he had worn sailing across the lawn.

Harry bit lip to keep from laughing as several wizard's chased after the dancing hat, their efforts for nothing as a golden blur dropped from the sky and snatched the thing off the ground. "I don't have a choice, do I?" He queried, pushing to his feet. Shaking his long cloak out, he shaded his eyes with a hand and watched as the clan of Mage Dragons zipped across the sky above him, their course already set for Hogwarts.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! I know its shorter then usual and I apologize for it.

E-san - I've never heard of the story you mentioned but did take a quick look to search for it, unfortunately I was unable to locate it. I'm glad that you're enjoying my story though.  
kasmo - I imagine the Mage Dragon's just have a bad reputation due to their ability to use magic, thus making them appear stronger and more dangerous than other dragons.  
RavenclawBest - Lucius is worried on both accounts: what the dark lord is planning and what his son is going to be expected to do.  
PleiadesWolfe - lol, it was a good suggestion but I couldn't pass up the opportunity.  
murdrax - lol, and to think that I thought the prologue would be a bit of a turnoff! I'm a happy H/D shipper but can promise you that nothing more then a little kissing will occur.  
fraewyn - The combined power of the mages, the Maw, and the two wizards who can control them won't appear for several more chapters, I'd really hate to ruin the surprise.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - Yeah, I'm kinda of leaning toward Harry being dominant but I still think Draco's coming off a lot smarter. Now what's better, brain or brawn?  
IvySnowe - lol, wow, I think that's the first time anyone has been unhappy over my punctuality. Lucius is definitely worried about Draco and the boys are growing closer, or were until Lucius pulled his little stunt.  
Shinigami - lol, I think Harry's going to end up being the more dominant one. Then again, strength isn't always everything and Draco was kind of calling the shots in this chapter.  
Fiery Phoenix - I suppose with the amount of power he's just been handed he has to change his Gryffindor ways. Making stupid mistakes when you're powerful is never a good thing, it also tends to make you look stupid.


	23. Secrets and Deals

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Twenty-Two - Secrets and Deals**

Draco reached out a hand and steadied himself as his feet slammed into the hard marble floor, one slender eyebrow arching as he glanced around the foyar of Malfoy Manor. Straightening his cloak with a flick of his wrist, he turned to stare at his father's retreating back.

"I thought I was going to Durmstrang," he stated calmly, rolling his eyes and gliding after the older wizard. He passed silently down the hall in Lucius' wake, a trail of dried mud and grass marking the path he took. Somewhere within the sprawling house, a clock began to chime the time away, each gong reverberating through the thick stone.

Lucius flicked a passive look over his shoulder, his hand tightening on the head of the silver cane he carried. "I lied." He returned, sweeping into his office and heading toward the massive desk that occupied one entire corner of the room. The traveling cloak he wore was tossed thoughtlessly onto one of the chairs sitting before the fire as he stalked by, the dark cloth sliding over the back to pool on the seat.

"You believe you're capable of teaching of teaching me?" Draco asked in amusement, flopping gracefully into one of the tall chairs across from his father's desk. Arching both his eyebrows, he swung his heels up onto the dark wood and clasped his hands together. "Did mother talk you into this?"

Frowning, Lucius pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk and removed the bottle of Fire Whiskey he kept hidden there. Plonking it down on the dark wood, he glared at his son. "Where is the flute?"

"My flute? Why, I suppose it's in my trunk." Draco murmured innocently, watching as his father poured a snifter of the liquor. Around his neck, the silver chain containing the Dragon's Maw seemed to grow heavier, as if trying to remind him of its presence.

"Don't be smart with me, boy." Lucius hissed, wrapping his long fingers around the small glass and taking a cautious sip of the whiskey. He arched an eyebrow and glanced at the small clock hanging above the fire before slumping deeper into the comfortable chair. "The flute that was in the little room on the third floor."

"You mean this flute?" Draco queried, hooking a finger through the silver chain and pulling it out from under his Quidditch jersey. At the apex of the metal, the golden ring and the miniature flute swung back and forth, clinking gently together. Releasing the necklace, he leaned back in the chair and studied his father's relieved features. "How did you come to be in possession of the Dragon's Maw?"

"That flute has been passed down through seven generations of Malfoys, each heir holding and playing the instrument in hopes that the Mage Dragons would return." Lucius murmured into his glass of whiskey. A tiny smirk played across his face and he lifted the alcohol in a toast. "To you, Draco, summoner of the last clan of Mage Dragons."

"Why was it so important that the dragons be called back?" Questioned Draco, his fingers closing around the flute. The tiny bumps and ridges of the keys bit lightly at the pads of his fingers, making him jump slightly and drop the instrument.

"Something about correcting a mistake. The real reason was lost long ago, every generation after Reginald Malfoy was more interested in the power that the Mage Dragons would bring when they returned. They're an extremely powerful species, every witch and wizard wanted some part of them." Lucius responded after a moment of deep thought. The blond threaded his fingers through his long tangle of hair and tugged gently on it, peering at his son. "Have you tried to command them?"

It was that question that gave away his father's reason for wanting the flute. Smiling sweetly, Draco lifted one shoulder and tipped his head to the side. "I called them, didn't I? That guarantees me a certain level of power over them." His father didn't need to know that Harry was the one who could command them. That would spoil all their fun and ruin the surprise. "Why is it so important that I be able to command them?"

Lucius sighed and rubbed his forehead before swinging his own heels up onto the desk and propping them atop a stack of parchment. "Voldemort learned of the Dragon's Maw through some old tomes; when he found out that our family held it, he told me to bring it to him. He plans on using the dragons to complete his takeover of the wizarding world. No one would expect to be attacked by a clan of magic using dragons."

"That crazy fool actually thinks that the Mages will listen to him?" Throwing back his head, Draco laughed at the shadowed ceiling; the mere thought of the proud and powerful Mage Dragons obeying Voldemort's every command was just to much. Still chortling softly, he cupped his chin and looked over the desk at his father. "Does he know that merely holding the flute won't be enough?"

"He thinks to speak with them using parseltongue," Lucius volunteered, a small smile playing across his face. He swirled the remainder of the whiskey it his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh against the walls of its confines. Eyebrows drawing down, he glanced at his son who was currently studying his nails with a look of distaste. "Did Potter try and communicate with them?"

"Harry said it was like trying to speak duck to a chicken or something like that." Narrowing his eyes to better peer at the dark gunk packed under his nails, the younger blond frowned and shook his head. Straightening in his seat, he pulled his feet from the desk and rose. "If you have no more questions, I'd like to go and get cleaned up."

"I'll see you at dinner in two hours. Your mother will be there as well." Lucius warned, watching his son glide from the room. Sighing heavily, he tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Draco closed the door of his father's office, stepping away from the dark wood with a relieved sigh. He rolled his shoulders as he strode down the hall, pushing away the tension that had crept upon him while he'd been speaking with his father. His sire would be none to happy when he learned that Draco couldn't completely command the dragons. Oh, they listened to him well enough but it was Harry whose orders they followed. A door opened down the hall and a small house elf came stumbling out, its thin arms quivering beneath the mound of laundry it carried.

He tripped the elf as he passed by, knowing that the little creature would have no idea who its attacker had been, especially since he was supposedly still at Hogwarts. A knowing smirk slid across his face as he walked into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him to announce his return to the manor. In the center of the room, a pile of trunks and books rested, appearing slightly forlorn in the neat and organized chamber.

"Pippy!" He bellowed, setting his hands on his hips. Counting the seconds that passed, he frowned when the elf failed to appear. Gritting his teeth, he stormed into the bathroom that adjoined his bedroom and yanked his clothes off. The soiled clothing landed on the floor, obscuring the silver and green tile pattern that marched around the room. Drawing a deep breath, he screamed for the house elf again before twisting the tap for the tub and clambering into the deep marble basin.

Propping his head on the lip of the bathtub, he peered up at the ceiling as he tangled his fingers in the chain around his neck. He needed to tell Harry what was going on, immediately. Slipping his toes beneath the stream of warm water, he allowed himself to relax. Voldemort hardly knew anything about the Mage Dragons; that might give the raven-haired wizard all the advantage he needed. Silently hoping it was enough, he sunk deeper into the soothing water and closed his eyes.

XxXxX

Harry crashed to his knees and rolled across the hearth of Dumbledore's office, his forehead coming to rest against the wooden leg of a high-backed chair. Closing his eyes, he flipped himself over onto his back and ran his hands over his face. Sliding one of his bright green orbs open, he peered at the ceiling through his spread fingers and grimaced. He'd been back to Hogwarts for half a second and already he needed a trip to the Infirmary.

Green flames whooshed up in the fireplace and Dumbledore appeared, his face set serenely as he lifted his robes and stepped over Harry's prone form. Fawkes trilled in greeting, tilting his shimmering head and fluttering his wings at the older wizard's arrival. Pausing next to the phoenix, the Professor reached out and gave the bird a light pat before continuing to his desk. "Alright, my boy?" He asked, settling into his chair with a sigh of contentment.

"I've been better." Harry replied simply, climbing fluidly to his feet and shaking his long Quidditch cloak out. He peered around the office for a moment before gliding toward the headmaster's desk and dropping into one of the adjacent chairs. Crossing his arms, he slid his fingers along the wand tucked into the top of the Quidditch pants and observed the wizard sitting across from him carefully. "Why did you let Lucius take Draco?"

Dumbledore clasped his hands together and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the top of his desk. "Lucius Malfoy has decided that Draco's future lies at Durmstrang, and as his parent, he has every right to transfer his son where he chooses."

"Do you actually believe that?" Harry demanded, chin jutting out as he gritted his teeth. He fisted his hands in the stained cloth of the cloak, pushing down the urge to jump to his feet and yell and scream over the older wizard's decision. Instead, he took a calming breath and moved his fingers to the arms of the chair, Draco's words floating through his mind.

"I believe that Mister Malfoy has his son's best interests at heart." Dumbledore answered calmly, opening the top drawer of his desk and removing a small silver bowl. He offered the dish of candies to Harry, frowning when the raven-haired youth lifted a hand in silent refusal. "Now, would you care to tell me what happened with those dragons? The last I had heard, Mage Dragons were no longer an existing species."

"They're supposedly the last of their kind." Muttered Harry, his lashes dropping down to cover his eyes as he watched Dumbledore pick through the bowl of coloured candies. "When the hunters came for them, they fled across the ocean. They've been hiding since then, waiting for a call."

"You believe that the Mage Dragons were summoned?" Dumbledore asked in interest, the candy being conveyed to his mouth halting against his lips. A thought seemed to cross his mind, his eyes losing some of their twinkle. "Harry, do you believe that it was Lord Voldemort who summoned the dragons? If their sudden appearance can't be explained or if they're doing his bidding . . . I'm afraid I'll have to call in the Dragon Hunters. Keeping a dozen dangerous dragons of unknown origin alive would be extremely risky."

Harry chuckled and leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out before him and steepling his fingers. "What would a clan of dragons over five hundred years old know of our war?" Sneering slightly, he crossed his legs at the ankle and tipped his head. "Mage dragons are dangerous only to those who would attempt to harm them; besides, I'm sure Lord Voldemort has nothing of interest to offer them."

"And you do?" Dumbledore asked around the candy he was sucking on. His fingers went back to the dish for another, stirring the brightly coloured spheres absently.

"Of course, my protection." Harry stated, tapping the tips of his fingers together. He hid his smirk behind his hands as the older wizard stilled. "If I were you, Professor, I'd make sure I went straight to the Ministry tomorrow morning and arranged a decree citing the Mage Dragons as a protected species, or something like that."

"I can see you've become quite attached to those dragons over the last few days, my boy, but under Ministry law they're still supposed to be killed on sight." Dumbledore explained, pushing the bowl of candies away and straightening in his chair. Frowning, he looked around the room and scanned the portraits, noticing the nods of agreement the former headmasters were exchanging.

"Well I suggest you get that changed immediately." Harry announced, drawing his legs back under him and rising slowly. Rolling his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension that had been building in the muscles, he relaxed his body and planted his hands on his hips. "If a single scale on any of those dragons is harmed . . . I'll make Voldemort look like a first year Hufflepuff."

"Now, Harry-"

Harry held his hand up to stop the older wizard's protests, arching a dark brow as he swept his cloak aside and stepped back behind the chair he'd been sitting on. "They're mine. Mine to guard; mine to protect; and mine to love. Should something arise that would threaten their safety, I'll make them vanish. Of course, seeing as they're under my protection, I'll have to go with them."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded, accepting Harry's terms and unsubtle warning. "Good night, my boy." He murmured, running a hand down his beard as he slumped deeper into the large chair he was ensconced within.

Not batting an eyelash at the headmaster's dejected posture, Harry bowed his head. "Good night, Professor." Turning, he marched toward the door on the opposite side of the room, ignoring the slight tinge of guilt he felt for pushing the older wizard into a corner. The door opened before Harry could get to it; a shocked Severus Snape nearly dropping the large bag of parchment and letters he clutched at the sight of the raven-haired wizard.

"Potter!" The Potions Master yelped, arms tightening around the bulging bag. His eyes narrowed to slits as he took in the Gryffindor's disheveled appearance.

"Professor," Harry greeted, sliding around the dark-haired wizard and loping down the steps. Grinning at the soft roar of outrage that followed him down the stairs, he set his course for Gryffindor Tower. The halls and staircases were a confusing maze that had taken him three years to master, the ever-changing decor allowing one to easily become lost.

After arguing with the Fat Lady over the password, Harry was grudgingly allowed to enter the Gryffindor Common Room. He frowned upon finding the usually busy room silent, the fire in the hearth nothing more than ashes. Shrugging his shoulders, he climbed the staircase up to the sixth year dorms and pushed his way into the room he shared with the four others Gryffindor sixth year males.

"Thanks a lot, guys." He muttered, glaring at the heap of dirty clothes and books piled atop his bed, none of which belonged to him. Shaking his head, he shoveled the stuff onto the floor before going to his trunk and withdrawing the bag that held all of his bathroom stuff. Picking through the clean clothes contained within his wardrobe, he withdrew a pair of pair of pants and a soft green shirt.

In the bathroom, he set his stuff on the counter and stared into the mirror. His face was covered in dirt and a grass stain stretched across his chin, making his gleaming eyes appear even brighter. Puzzling over the mark, he shook his head and headed toward the curtained shower stalls. Trying to remember exactly when he'd rubbed his chin all over the ground was pointless, there had just been to many occasions when he'd fallen or been shoved by Draco. He turned the water on and sighed at the warmth that rushed over his skin. Turning his face into the water, he closed his eyes and concentrated on getting clean.

A soft touch against his mind several minutes later had him opening his eyes and peering around. Running his tongue over his lips, he pushed his dripping bangs back and clambered to his feet. He froze with his hand on the tap as the light caress was repeated, a feeling of concern and fear stealing through his head. It took him a minute to process the emotions, figure out exactly what was going on.

"They're here," he whispered, smiling as he turned the water off and slipped from behind the shower curtain. Drying off quickly, he dressed and raced out into the bedroom, chucking his stuff onto his bed before barreling out the door.

He knew where they would go. Black Lady and Silverhawk would return to the first place they'd ever seen him and the rest of the clan would follow. Running down the hall, Harry panted for breath and prayed that he'd arrive at the Quidditch pitch before the Mages did. If he was right, there was currently a game going on; that would explain the absence of students in the dorm and halls. Gasping for breath, he staggered to a halt on the edge of the pitch and looked at the cheering students occupying the stands.

High in the sky above the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Quidditch players, a flash of gold could be seen moving amongst the clouds. Biting his lip to contain his laughter, he watched as the dragon with the bright metallic hide dropped from the sky, a blur of blue and green and purple. F'lor and Druid followed closely, their wings held against their bodies as they fell gracefully from the slowly darkening sky. The rest of the clan spiraled after the three males, circling over the stunned professors and students. Their appearance had silence falling over the rowdy bunch before pandemonium broke out.

Throwing back his head, Harry laughed and watched in amusement as the students crammed into the stands fled in fear and horror. Still chuckling, he walked out on to the Quidditch pitch as Basta landed gently upon the short grass, his golden talons biting into the earth. Hissing and rumbling in pleasure, the dragon ambled forward and lowered his head, meeting Harry's emerald eyes with glowing orbs of an identical green.

"Welcome to your temporary home." Harry breathed, extending a hand to scratch the Mage's chin. He watched as the rest of the clan landed gracefully, their arrival sending the students still on the pitch fleeing toward the castle. Wincing as a clump of perfectly manicured grass went flying, he leaned his head on the scarlet dragon's shoulder and sighed. "Don't set the grass on fire and try and avoid knocking the hoops over. Merlin knows Hooch is going to have my ass after seeing the damage you've already done."

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review. Anyway, while I was working on the first part of this chapter, I got up to answer the phone. It was for my brother of course, so I went out to the garage to tell him the phone was for him but what came out was ' the flutes for you'. And now my dad thinks I'm nuts.

henriette - lol, I think you nailed their relationship in one sentence better then I have through the entire story. Draco can call the dragons, but whether or not they'll obey once they arrive is anyones guess.  
RavenclawBest - I adore Lucius and hate having to betray him as an evil, mindless killer (which is why he usually ends up being a fairly decent guy in my stories). I think I answered some of your questions in this chapter, however, some of them are unanswerable.  
Beth Weasley - lol, Technology: its fun to play with until it starts screwing around with you. I hope to see your sketch soon, hopefully once I do I'll be able to finally name your dragon (unless you'd like that honour?)  
misstree - The dragons stay at Hogwarts is definitely going to be interesting, but that's all I can say.  
TorringMay - I'm a happy-ever-after type of person, I don't think I could spend hours working on a love story only to tear them apart and leave them like that. I can't claim all of the dragons personalities as my own. Several of my readers were kind enough to donate a dragon to me, and from their descriptions I was able to piece together the type of personality that dragon would have.  
E-San - lol, I adore writing and can't even stand the thought of abandoning one of my babies. I've noticed that there are a lot of dragon stories floating around but finding completed ones is very hard.  
PleiadesWolfe - I didn't realize how close we were to the major battle until I read your review. In a handful of chapters we will indeed be seeing the major battle, which surprised me greatly.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - lol, I'll see what I can work out.  
GryffieGurl - The dragons might seem less protected but now Harry has a chance to safely play around with the bond he has with Basta, not to mention his friends will be able to help him guard them.


	24. The Difficulty with Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two - The Difficulty With Dragons**

Draco shook his napkin out and laid it across his lap, smoothing the white cloth with an absentminded stroke. He slumped down comfortably in the hard wooden chair, draping an arm across the table as he watched a house elf dutifully fill the wine glasses placed above each plate. Lifting a hand lazily, he ran his fingers through his hair, combing the damp locks back from his face. He straightened as the door at the end of the room swung open, revealing his mother in all her beauty. The witch's pale eyes brightened and she swept toward him with a little clap of her hands, dropping the empty wine glass she held. Wincing as the glass struck the floor and shattered, the blond sighed and shook his head lightly.

"Draco, darling, how has school been?" Narcissa cooed, pausing behind her son's chair to drop a light kiss atop his damp hair. Patting him lightly on the shoulder, she glided down the length of the table to take her seat, the expensive blue robes she wore hissing along the floor behind her.

Rolling his eyes, Draco straightened the first of four forks and leaned back in his chair. "Quite boring, mother. However, I did manage to summon a species of dragons originally believed dead. Not to mention that I've been stuck in some horrible, dirty old manor for the past few days with Harry Potter after being stolen by said dragons from Hogwarts, who isn't really that bad by the way. Also, the dark lord wants to use the dragons to take over the world."

"How thrilling, darling." Narcissa purred enthusiastically, slipping gracefully into her chair and allowing a pair of house elves to push her closer to the table. Holding her hands up, the witch waited for one of the elves to place her napkin on her lap before reaching for her wine glass.

"So, dad is going to take me to a Death Eater meeting where I'll summon the dragons and wait for them to arrive with Harry. And after Harry rescues me, I'm probably going to shag him senseless." Draco finished, watching with an arched brow as his mother drained her glass and set it back down on the table.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie." Narcissa gushed, gesturing for the little elf to refill her wine glass. "If you keep it up, I'm sure Dumbledore will make you Head Boy next year."

Shaking his head, Draco reached for his own wine glass and took a cautious sip. Swirling the liquid thoughtlessly, he looked up as his father strode into the room and took his place at the head of the table. As soon as Lucius Malfoy was seated, house elves began to appear carrying trays loaded with appetizers. Nodding his head politely, the blond accepted a bowl of fruit and continued to watch his father. Clearing his throat, he slid his spoon beneath a strawberry. "Did you contact the Ministry about the Mage Dragons?"

"I did," Lucius drawled; back handing the elf that was attempting to lay his napkin across his lap. Muttering something under his breath, the older blond flicked the white cloth out and rested it upon his knee. "The Minister has agreed to allow the dragons to remain with Potter as long as he maintains control over them at all times. Should the Ministry feel that the dragons are becoming too dangerous, a team of hunters will be sent in to complete the job that was started centuries ago."

Draco ran his tongue over his lips, glaring down at the perfect strawberry sitting upon his spoon. "That isn't acceptable; those dragons are harmless. They're smarter and definitely more tame than those things the Ministry currently allows to roam the countryside." Sitting back, he waved a hand and waited for the practically untouched bowl to be removed. He wrapped his fingers around the stem of his wine glass and pulled it toward him, taking a long drink while waiting for his father to reply.

"I suppose the Mage Dragons will just have to prove their worth to the wizarding world then, won't they?" Lucius stated, sitting back in his chair and focusing his pale eyes on his son.

Narrowing his eyes at his sire's words, Draco thunked his glass down on the table and stood. "I'm not hungry," he announced, pushing his chair back and stalking from the dining room. Ignoring his mother's cheerful goodbye, he stormed up to his bedroom and began to pace its length.

He circled the trio of trunks perched in the center of the room, hand brushing along the dark wood as he chewed on his bottom lip. Within one of the large trunks, lost among his school uniforms and books, was a journal. The journal he'd stolen from Harry the night they'd been fighting in the music room. Smiling at the memory, he paused, fingers of his right hand drumming on the dark wood of the first box. His brow drew down as he considered the music contained within the pages of the book, the melodies that had seemingly been written to call and command the Mage Dragons.

Hooking his fingers through the handle of the first trunk, he dragged it from the pile, wincing as the wood crashed into the floor. He did the same with the second; glancing in the direction of the door to see if the clatter had drawn the attention of either of his parents. Shaking his head, he flipped the clasps on the trunk and swung the lid open. Almost immediately books and quills spilled from the interior, dropping to the floor and adding the mess. Using the side of his foot to shove the clutter away, he knelt down and began to rifle through the jumble of textbooks and parchment.

Blowing his bangs out of his eyes, he smiled slowly and dragged a large book from under his potions text. He held the book to his chest as he rose, stepping over the third trunk and walking toward his desk. In a graceful sweep of his arm, he cleared the wooden surface of old school work and unused quills. The large text was gently set before him, a hand gliding over the leather cover lovingly. He slid the nail of his index finger down over the line of closed pages, halting when a soft snick reached his ears. Slipping his finger between a pair of pages, he flipped the book open and stared. Resting well hidden in the hollowed out book, the small journal silently promised him the knowledge he required.

"Thank you, Harry." He whispered, lifting the little journal free of the larger book. Running a hand over the creamy leather, he tugged on the cover only to find the book locked. Swearing loudly, he plopped down into the desk chair and glowered at the Blood Sealed journal. Just his luck. In order to summon the Mages successfully, he was going to need the completed version of the melody, not just the refrain.

Sliding deeper into the chair, he glared up at the ceiling and rubbed his forehead in agitation. He froze with his hand on his right temple, eyes widening as he straightened slowly. The portraits! "Of course," Draco hissed in excitement, dragging open the lower desk drawer and pulling out a sheaf of staff paper. Grabbing a quill and a bottle of ink from the floor, he fled his bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him.

He ran through the halls, ignoring the grumbles and shouts from the paintings of long dead family members. Panting lightly, he charged up a set of stairs and down the shadowed corridor, coming to a sliding halt before a tightly closed door. Drawing a deep breath, he placed a hand on the knob and pushed the door open, slipping silently inside.

The room was still brightened by the Ever-Lasting candles, though the high table they were perched upon seemed a little more scuffed up then he remembered it being. A flash of movement drew his gaze from the empty space between the candles, turning his eyes to the painting hanging in the center of the wall to the left. Watching him in amusement, Reginald Malfoy slid deeper into his char and crossed his ankles, brilliant blue eyes flicking to the sheet draped painting across from him. Arching an eyebrow, he pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

Draco moved stiffly to the high table and set his supplies down before turning to the stare at the right wall. Drawing a deep breath, he stalked the short distance to the painting and locked his fingers in the white material. With a gentle tug, he pulled the sheet from the portrait and let it drop to the floor. He backed up a step and held his breath, waiting impatiently for something to happen.

The raven-haired witch in the painting turned slowly to peer at him, an expectant look on her face. She tipped her head to the side, emerald eyes burning eerily. Billowing in the phantom wind, her skirts swirled around her legs and danced over the whipping grasses.

"I need the music," he stated, holding the Dragon's Maw up. The light from the candles made the flute shimmer, the engravings along its length appearing to dance and dive in the uncertain glow. He lowered the instrument and waited, watching as the witch considered his request. "Something bad is going to happen; Harry and the dragons are the only ones who can stop it. This could be our only chance to prove that the Mage Dragons aren't evil, that they shouldn't be slaughtered. Right now, the only thing keeping them alive is Harry's deal with Dumbledore."

A smile curved the witch's lips and the flute appeared in her hands, her fingers sliding over the keys in an absent caress. Eyeing him carefully, she lifted it into position and arched an eyebrow. Behind her, lightning flashed over the churning ocean, the strong breeze tearing at her long skirts and pulling a mass of dark curls across her face.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Draco placed the Dragon's Maw atop the staff paper and pulled the table away from the wall. Circling it quickly and uncorking the bottle of ink, he dipped the quill into the black liquid and made several notes at the top of the page before lifting his gaze back to the witch's. "Please begin," he murmured, quill poised above the first series of lines on the parchment. With a slight bow of her head, Raveana closed her eyes and began to play, the notes as sweet and pure as the first time Draco had ever heard them. Bowing his own head, the blond began the careful chore of recording each note.

XxXxX

Harry ran his hand along Basta's neck, fingers gliding over the smooth scarlet and gold scales. He smiled as the dragon cooed and pressed into his touch, almost knocking him off balance in his eagerness to get closer. Around him the other dragons grumbled and hissed, opening and closing their long wings as they searched the surrounding stands and pitch for danger. A wind rose up and swirled around the clan, sending the cloth concealing the wooden structures of the stands flapping.

Shrieking in threat, F'lor snapped his wings open and lunged toward the Ravenclaw bleachers, tail swinging wildly behind him. In a show of strength, the blue Mage lashed out with its foreclaws, rending and ripping the material to shreds. As if that wasn't enough to show his superiority, the Greenback male drew back and calmly spat a ball of fire at the waving cloth, his eyes glowing fiercely as the flames consumed the entire structure in a matter of seconds.

"I am so dead," Harry whispered loudly, pressing his hands to his cheeks as he watched F'lor roar victoriously before plodding back to F'lar's side. Inhaling deeply, he propped himself up on Basta's shoulder and observed the unnatural way the fire ate its way through wood and cloth.

"Harry!"

Slipping beneath the red dragon's arched neck, Harry smiled as Hermione and Ron came trotting toward him. "Hey guys!" He loped forward happily to meet them, throwing his arms around their necks and hugging them warmly. Laughing, he stepped back and looked the pair of them over. Before he had a chance to say anything else, Ron's blue eyes widened and he took a quick step back, finger lifting to point at something over Harry's left shoulder.

Turning, Harry found himself staring into a gleaming emerald eye that matched his perfectly. Curling his lips back in warning, Basta snarled and opened his wings, making himself appear larger than he already was. Chuckling, the raven-haired wizard lifted a hand and gave the dragon a gentle pat on the cheek. "Good boy, but Ron and Hermione are my friends." Moving out from under the Mage's protectively arched neck, he walked forward and placed a light hand on both Ron's and Hermione's shoulders.

Huffing, Basta folded his wings with a snap and turned to hiss at Druid, who had a frosty cloud of white air hovering around his muzzle. At the King Mage's grumble, the dragon snorted and closed its swirling orange eyes, the cool mist disappearing.

"Madam Hooch is going to kill you," Ron remarked, staring at the burning tower with something akin to awe in his eyes.

Hermione shook her head and caught Harry by the forearms, frowning as she carefully examined him from head to foot. "I'm sure everyone will be very understanding about the whole thing, we're just happy to have you back in one piece." The witch muttered, shooting the crackling blaze a quick look.

"I'm pretty sure Ron's right, Hermione." Harry breathed, jumping slightly as the front supports of the stand folded. Lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, he shifted and glanced over his shoulder when the King Mage growled at something approaching him from behind.

"Where's Draco?" Blaise demanded, coming to a halt several feet away from Harry and placing his hands on his hips in a commanding way. The dark-haired wizard took a nervous step backwards when Silverhawk made a loud snuffling noise, a trickle of dark smoke creeping free of the his nostrils and sliding across the grass toward the Slytherin.

Frowning, Harry prowled between the pair and lifted a hand in warning. Before the black cloud could touch the leather of his boots, it dissipated. "Lucius took him," reported the raven-haired wizard, striding forward to slide a hand along the side of the Mage's face.

"Took him where?" Pansy called, wrapping her cloak around her body as she observed the dragons from what she considered a safe distance.

"He transferred Draco to Durmstrang, or at least that's the story he's telling." Muttered Harry. Shaking his head, he paced away from the white dragon's muzzle, trailing one of his hands down the creature's side as he walked. Rumbling softly, Silverhawk shifted and opened his mouth, exposing razor sharp fangs.

Blaise shook his head and glanced at Hermione, sharing the confused look the bushy haired witch wore. "Lucius wouldn't transfer Draco, not when he has so much power over the Board of Directors."

Harry nodded in agreement, tracing the edge of a golden wing while watching Druid and Black Lady snap at each other. On the opposite side of the dragon clan, a shrilling bark began. Almost immediately the warning was taken up by a second dragon, the pair's loud calls ricocheting over the abandoned Quidditch pitch. Wings unfurled in response to the unseen threat, heads lifting and tipping to better search the sky. In a hiss of scales, Esdra slipped from under F'lar's spread wings and launched herself into the air, a small streak of bronze shooting into the night.

"What's going on?" Hermione questioned sharply, her eyes wide as she backed away from the group. The witch exchanged a frightened look with Ron and Blaise as they crept backwards, all three of them gasping when Harry vanished beneath a scarlet and gold wing.

"Nothing to be worried about," Harry hollered, his voice muffled by the thick wing currently hiding him from their view. Narrowing his eyes in concern, he waded deeper into the clan and scanned the shadowed sky. The terrified hoot of an owl had him ducking and shielding his face with his arms, yelping in pain when the black bird sank sharp talons into his upraised forearms. Milliseconds later, Esdra collided with him, her amber eyes locked on the Great Horned Owl. In a tangle of legs and wings, the three rolled over the grass.

Swearing, Harry yanked the package tied to the owl's leg free and threw an arm around the Sandtongue's neck, pinning her against him. "Stop it," he growled at the small dragon, curling his fingers around a flailing wing and tugging it away from his abdomen. The owl fled in a flurry of feathers, its disappearance calming the dragons. Biting his lip to keep from groaning, the raven-haired wizard let go of the Sandtongue and rolled slowly away.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione yelled from where she stood next to Pansy, Blaise, and Ron. The quartet exchanged relieved looks when the wizard waved a hand in acknowledgment of the question, muttering something they couldn't quite make out over the grumbles and snarls of the Mage Dragons.

Cursing quietly, Harry patted the ground in search of the package he'd taken from the owl. His hand closed around the paper wrapped parcel, lifting it from the grass to hold it above his face. Chewing on his lip, he pulled the string and sat up slowly as the light from the burning stand turned the creamy leather to a fiery bronze. "Draco," he whispered, sliding a hand over the cover of the journal. He tore the rest of the paper away, searching the thick brown wrapping for a small note or message from the blond.

"What is it?" Blaise hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. The Slytherin flinched when the little Sandtongue hissed and spat at him, the gob of venomous saliva falling short of his boot tips. Dancing backwards, the small group watched in shocked fascination as the acidic drool chewed its way through the grass.

Shooting a warning look at Esdra, Harry shook his head and ran a hand over the cover of the journal. "It's Raveana's book," he stated softly. Placing the book in his lap, he tipped his chin up and gazed at the pale crescent sliding across the sky. With the Blood Seal in place, the journal would have been useless to the Draco. Sighing, the raven-haired wizard rubbed his temples and collapsed back onto the grass. The blond was safe for now, that was all that mattered.

"Are you coming back to the tower tonight or what?" Ron asked, eyeing Esdra anxiously. Lifting a hand to ruffle his red locks, he let loose a sharp yip and stumbled backwards when the Sandtongue coughed loudly.

"I think I'll stay here tonight," replied Harry, glancing around him at the dragons. The large animals shifted nervously, their heads constantly tipping in search of danger. Turning his head, he watched the remainder of the Ravenclaw bleachers collapse into a pile of ashes, the embers glowing brightly. "I'm afraid of leaving them alone out here." He acknowledged before lifting a hand and waving good night to the quartet. Crossing his legs, he watched the two Gryffindors and the pair of Slytherins traipse toward the castle side by side.

Moving quietly for so large of an animal, Basta sidled up next to him and dropped to his stomach. Humming in contentment, the Mage lowered its head and carefully curled the length of its neck around Harry, protectively concealing him from anything that might creep up on them in the night. Grumbling and hissing at each other, the rest of the clan closed ranks, spreading their wings over their neighbours in a warm blanket of scales and magic.

Flopping back onto the grass, Harry stared at the underside of Basta's wing and wondered if the dragons would really allow themselves to be used in such a manner as he was planning. Sighing, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, allowing the heat seeping from Basta to warm him.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review.

zeynel - The next chapter will hold more interaction between various students and the dragons. I believe that Lucius thinks something is up but I'm pretty sure he has yet to realize the extent of Draco's commitment or adoration to both Harry and the dragons.  
kasmo - I think it would be like trying to watch a litter of puppies, impossible to keep track of all of them. Right now, Lucius is assuming that Draco will be able to control the dragons via the flute.  
Zoomi - You've definitely got Draco's relationship with the dragons right, they choose which orders they follow.  
fraewyn - For now the dragons are safe, under both Harry's protection and whatever magic Lucius managed to work with the ministry.  
GryffieGurl - The connection between Harry and Basta is going to come in very handy and be very important. Actually, I really don't think there are they many more chapters to go. Considering where we are now and where we want to go, I'm envisioning six or seven.  
Shinigami - Introductions between various students and staff will occur next chapter. lol, I don't think the wizarding world would know what to make of the animal right activists.  
Fiery Phoenix - I adore Harry's Slytherin side and think we don't see enough of it.


	25. The Keeping of Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three - The Keeping of Dragons**

Harry stood upon the Quidditch pitch, the sun warm upon his back. A soft wind swept around him, sliding gentle fingers through his hair and dragging his dark cloak against his legs. Before him, the length of the pitch stood empty, the neatly trimmed grasses pure and gleaming with dew. Raising a hand to scratch the side of his head, he twisted and froze. His brow drew down in confusion as he stared at the rippling cloth of the Ravenclaw stands, the blue and black material fluttering gently. Glancing slowly around, he scanned the pitch in search of the Mage Dragons, stilling completely when his gaze landed on Raveana. He turned to face the witch, waiting patiently for her to arrive at his side.

"You have need of me," the raven-haired witch stated as she strode across the grass toward him. She tipped her head back and glanced skyward as she glided forward, one small hand lifting to shield her eyes. Her skirts swirled around her legs, allowing him to see the dainty black boots she wore as well as the silver hilt of the dagger tucked into the leather.

Harry bit his lip and raised his chin to peer at the sky, hands balling into fists as he considered her words. Nodding slowly, he dropped his gaze back to her. "I suppose I do." He admitted reluctantly.

Raveana lowered her chin slowly, locking eyes with him. A small smile curved her lips and she bobbed her head lightly, as if she had known the answer all along. "I, Raveana, have not the power or strength you will require to complete your task. You must look elsewhere for that aid, young Harry."

"But-" Harry began, only to snap his mouth shut when the witch lifted a hand gracefully and arched a dark eyebrow. Frowning, he clamped his lips together and glowered at her, hands balling into fists upon his hips. His eyes followed the slow movement of her index finger, widening when they landed on the dragon standing silently behind him.

"I am merely a fragment of a memory, a piece of the past brought alive in your mind." Raveana whispered, walking toward the massive red Mage with a hand outstretched. She murmured something quietly to the dragon, her splayed fingers smoothing over his silky scales in a loving gesture. Giving the beast one last caress, she turned and paced toward him, halting when her skirts slapped against his legs.

Harry stared into her shimmering emerald eyes; close enough to see the small bubbles of blue that rose within the orbs. "What can I do? How can I protect them when I already have the entire fate of the wizarding world resting on my shoulders? " He demanded in frustration, clenching his jaw as he waited for her to respond.

"The knowledge you need lays at your fingertips, all you need to do is reach out and grab it." Smiling sweetly, Raveana reached out and touched a cool fingertip to his cheek before taking a slow step backwards. "Great power awaits, you must only look for it and it will find you. When you feel weak, reach for the dragon, he has the strength to carry you through even the worst of battles." Bowing her head in a silent goodbye, she turned and began to walk away, hair and cloak whipping in the wind.

"Aren't you going to push me off a cliff?" Harry hollered at her back, stomping a few steps after her retreating form. Shaking his head over the tangle of riddles and bullshit she'd just fed him, he narrowed his eyes and cursed angrily. Seconds after the words had left his mouth, the earth beneath his feet opened and he found himself falling toward a pool of dark water.

XxXxX

Harry sat up with a gasp, the journal that had been resting upon his chest sliding onto his lap and falling open. Lifting a hand, he rubbed his face and glanced up at the sky, finding the expanse a pale blue. Yawning widely, he shifted and picked the leather journal up, peering at the book as if it held the answer to all his problems. Shaking his head, he snorted loudly before raising a hand and raking his fingers through his hair.

"Good morning, Harry." A cheerful voice called in greeting.

Twisting around on the grass, Harry arched his eyebrows and peered in disbelief at Luna Lovegood. The blonde witch stood on the side of the Quidditch pitch, a half-eaten apple held in her hand as she stared dreamily at the small dragon sitting in front of her. "Morning, Luna." He replied evenly, pushing to his feet. Arching his back, he stretched his arms above his head and splayed his fingers, working out the kinks and aches that came from sleeping on the ground.

"My father and I spent two months in the desert's of Egypt searching for a clan of Sandtongues. Very elusive dragons, you know." Luna explained, taking a bite out of the apple and tilting her head to better examine the pony sized Mage.

Harry followed the Ravenclaw's gaze to Esdra, taking a relieved breath when the small dragon merely twisted her own head and observed the witch through shimmering amber orbs. "I don't suppose you sent your father an owl telling him about the Mage Dragons, did you?" He asked softly, turning around and doing a quick head count to make sure the entire clan was accounted for. His finger halted on F'lar's form, eyes scanning the pitch in search of F'lor. A sigh of relief escaped him when he located the blue dragon perched atop one of swaying hoops; wings unfurled to better catch the sun's warming rays.

"Oh no, the owls are all in quarantine; terrible case of the owl flu." Luna informed him before taking another bite out of her apple. She chewed slowly; her gaze wandering over the dragons sprawled across the grass. The faint breeze that had grown with the rising of the sun stirred her hair and tugged gently at her long cloak.

"Owl flu?" Harry asked quietly, twisting sharply when F'lor gave a warning yip from his position. Before the call had faded, the rest of the Mage Dragons had risen, their wings open and their nostrils flared. It was a deep bass rumble emitted from Basta that had the clan returning to their former positions, lying back down on the lawn and stretching out comfortably. The sight of Hermione, Ron, Blaise, and Pansy striding toward him had him smiling and waving a hand in welcome. "Good morning!"

"Morning, Harry," Ron called, sliding a hand into his pocket to fish out the slice of buttered toast he'd hidden there before Hermione had dragged him out of the Great Hall. From his other pocket he withdrew an orange, which he tossed to the raven-haired wizard.

"Thanks, Ron." Nodding his head in acceptance of the fruit, Harry began to peel the orange, his eyes darting back and forth between the dragons and his friends.

"These are the last Mage Dragons?" Hermione asked in interest, observing the dragons with wide eyes. She wrapped her cloak around her as she paced before them, mentally identifying each breed as she passed by them.

Bobbing his head, the emerald-eyed wizard tucked the orange away and walked to where Esdra was suspiciously sniffing the end of Blaise's cloak. "This is Esdra," Harry said, placing a hand on the top of the small golden dragon's head. He scratched the top of the Sandtongue's head, easing his fingers down her back and between her slightly furled wings. Tugging playfully on the tip of one sandy coloured wing, he walked toward the next dragon in line.

"Black Lady," he introduced, waving his hand in the direction of the huge dark dragon. Smiling slightly, he walked past the Siberian Shade, ignoring the flick of her tail and the evil glint in her silver eyes. He ducked the black and silver wing that opened suddenly, narrowly avoiding a blow to the side of the side. "This is F'lar." The Greenback female looked the group over carefully before sliding her head under one large green wing.

"F'lor," Harry said, pointing at the large blue dragon playing guard from the one of the Quidditch hoops. "They're mated." He explained as he glided further down the line, pausing in front of the small white and gold Mage. The dragon shot him a narrowed eyed look and promptly turned around, his tail hissing over the grass. "Silverhawk; he seems to like Draco better than he does me."

"This is Druid," he murmured, shooting the Coldmouth a warning look when a fine white mist crept from his nose. Snuffling loudly, the snowy white dragon inhaled the cloud and closed its swirling orange eyes. "And this is Basta." Smiling, Harry stopped in front of the huge red dragon and raised a hand. Lowering his head, the King Mage pushed his muzzle into the raven-haired wizard's upraised palm and exhaled slowly.

"What about that one?" Luna asked, pointing at the dragon that sat silently behind Basta. The dragon's metallic hide shimmered under the sunlight, scales rippling green and purple as he shifted under the group's gaze.

Brow drawing down, Harry dropped his hands to his side, his left sliding into his pocket to rest upon the leather of Raveana's journal. "Raveana never named him."

"How do you know their names, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, cautiously approaching Druid. She extended one hand slowly, trying not to shake visibly as the white Mage lowered his head and sniffed the air above her fingertips. Her breath left her in a long sigh as the Coldmouth raised his head and resumed his stoic position, the grass under his talons frosting over slowly.

"Raveana kept a diary at Shirestra, Draco and I found it." The raven-haired Gryffindor stated, fingers smoothing over the little leather book in his pocket. Tipping his head back, he peered up into the sky and chewed his lip. The diary had held some interesting information, perhaps a little more than the journal. He needed more though, something that would explain the bond in depth.

"It's to bad there isn't any other information that would help you learn more about them." Blaise murmured, shifting uneasily as Esdra circled him. The wizard backed up nervously, moving closer to Pansy and Luna.

Harry snapped his fingers suddenly, emerald eyes widening as he remembered something. The vault that the journal had come from had held other stuff, and all of it was now sitting in his personal vault. Perhaps there was another book among the contents, something that would give him the information he would need for the coming battle. Raveana herself had said the knowledge he needed was at his fingertips. And then he had woken with her journal on his chest, under his hand. A soft laugh escaped him at the witch's clever words, maybe Raveana had given him the answer to all his problems.

"I have to go and see Dumbledore," Harry called as he backed away from the small group. Giving a quick wave, he spun around and broke into a jog, coming to a sliding halt on the opposite side of the pitch. Wheeling around, he lifted his hands to his mouth. "Watch the dragons for me!"

"Watch the dragons?" Blaise muttered, arching an eyebrow as he turned to peer at the seven Mage Dragons standing in a neat row behind them. His brows drew down as the dragons dipped their heads and focused their shining eyes on him before beginning to rumble softly. "Why do we have to watch them?"

Hermione cringed and raised her hands to cover her ears as one of the dragons opened its wings and threw its head back, shrieking at the sky before launching itself into the air. On the opposite side of the pitch, the blue dragon responded and lashed its tail in challenge. "I'm going to go and get Hagrid," she whispered, biting her lip as the hoop the dragon was sitting on swayed dangerously.

"I suggest you hurry," Blaise said calmly, eyes widening as one of the white dragons snorted a ball of ice in the direction of the large scarlet Mage. The four students remaining on the pitch exchanged worried glances as the group of dragons exploded into action. Cowering together, they retreated to base of the Slytherin stands where they all slid down to the grass and crossed their legs. Before them on the Quidditch pitch, the dragons snapped and snarled, talons tearing strips from the lawn while smoke and steam curled from flared nostrils. Not one of them thought about class; all of them completely overwhelmed with the chore of babysitting a clan of Mage Dragons.

XxXxX

Draco put the finishing touches on the piece of parchment sitting before him on the table. He sighed heavily, straightening slowly and pressing his hands to the small of his back. The rough copy of the music had been finished earlier in the morning, full of hastily scratched out notes and blobs of ink. Rubbing his eyes with his ink-stained fingers, he rose stiffly and glanced out the bedroom window at the sky. Fluffy clouds drifted unhurriedly across the pale blue expanse, backlit by the glowing sun.

Shaking his head, he scooped the pile of paper together and pulled out a drawer of the desk, placing the music neatly inside before closing it firmly. Stretching slowly, he peered at the clock on the wall before heading for the door, thoughts of the warm breakfast waiting below making his stomach growl. His journey to the small dining room was uneventful and unhurried, the chances of his mother being up at this time of the morning minimal. He was, however, slightly disappointed at finding his father sitting silently at the head of the table, Daily Prophet held firmly in one hand.

"Good morning, Draco." Lucius Malfoy murmured, placing the paper on the table next to his empty plate. He leaned back in his chair, slumping gracefully as he reached for his coffee cup.

Nodding his head in acknowledgment of his father's greeting, Draco filled a plate at the side table before strolling to his place at the long table. Setting the plate lightly upon the dark wood, the blond ran his fingers through his hair and flopped into the chair behind him. "Morning," he muttered, reaching for the dainty cup of steaming tea that had materialized in front of him. Taking a cautious sip, he sighed and slid deeper into the chair, savoring the warmth and taste of the liquid.

Lucius arched an eyebrow and flipped his paper over, pale eyes scanning the fine print absently. "How was your night?" The elder blond asked softly, draining the last dredges of coffee from the bottom of the cup. With a flick of his fingers, he gestured for one of the waiting house elves to refill the empty mug.

"Quiet," answered Draco, sampling the scrambled eggs he'd selected from the sideboard. He almost groaned in delight at the taste, choosing instead to sit back and turn his gaze to his father. "Where's my flute?"

"Voldemort has it," Lucius replied evenly, opening the paper and turning the page without glancing at Draco. Eyebrows arching at the title of an article, he picked the paper up and held it closer to his face. "He's under the impression that he possesses the Dragon's Maw." Shifting the Daily Prophet into his left hand, he reached for his coffee cup with the other.

Pausing with his fork half way to his mouth, Draco tipped his head and turned his blue eyes to his father. "You gave him my flute?" Shaking his head in exasperation, he resumed eating, wondering exactly how his father was going to explain the mix up between the flutes to the Dark Lord. He cleared his plate efficiently and drank the last of his coffee before asking his father to excuse him and leaving the table.

He made his way back to his bedroom, gliding leisurely down the halls as the house came alive around him. House elves worked to clean and straighten various rooms, opening windows and drawing back the drapes as they moved through the sprawling Manor. Tapping his bottom lip with his index finger, Draco walked into his bedroom and headed straight for the desk perched on the opposite side of the room. He withdrew the music that he had placed in one of the drawers, grabbing the Dragon's Maw from its place on his night table as he exited the room.

Never before had he been given a chance to play the entire summoning song, which left him in a little bit of a dilemma. If he practiced it now, he risked the chance of calling the dragons from the protection of Harry and Hogwarts. However, if he chose not to practice, he ran the chance of screwing up when it really counted. Blowing out a long breath in frustration, he stormed down the hall to the small music room.

He approached the piano sitting forlornly in the corner slowly, raising an eyebrow at the layer of dust that had been allowed to settle over the ivory keys. Setting the silver flute carefully on the bench, he arranged the music on the small ledge provided before gingerly perching himself next to the shining instrument. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment, the tips lightly caressing the aged ivory. Inhaling deeply, he settled his hands firmly into place and lifted his eyes to the music.

The first note was played gingerly, ears straining to discern whether or not the instrument was actually in tune. A small smile played over his features when the note rang pure, fingers shifting lightly over the keys. Relaxing his spine, he allowed himself to carefully play the lilting melody, pausing every now and then to replay a line or series of notes. He glanced over his shoulder when a shadow fell across the keyboard, raising his eyes to meet his mother's shining orbs.

"You still play wonderfully, darling." Narcissa shrilled from behind him, one finger wagging back and forth with the tune he played. Smiling happily, she gave him a kiss on the top of the head before waltzing from the room, humming the refrain as she went.

Sighing over his mother's alcohol induced condition, the blond returned to the piano, fingers dancing over the keys swiftly. When he was sure he had the entire composition memorized, he flipped the music over and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to guide his fingers without halting. A proud smile turned the corners of his lips up as he brought the piece to a close, fingers sliding over the keys in a gesture of finality.

"That's it?" His father demanded from the doorway, causing him to twist around and study the older wizard's arrogant stance.

Narrowing his eyes, Draco rose from the bench and collected the papers and the Dragon's Maw. "It is," he stated, striding forward to stand in front of Lucius.

Lucius nodded and peered down into his son's eyes, lifting a hand to sweep his hair back over his shoulder. "You're expected to play tonight before the Dark Lord, be prepared." Giving Draco a firm nod, he whirled around and stalked down the hall, vanishing into the room he shared with Narcissa.

Draco stared dry-mouthed after his father, the Dragon's Maw heavy in his hand. Biting his lip, he drew himself up and tipped his chin, he was prepared and he could only hope that Harry was ready. Bowing his head at the thought, he prowled down the hall, shooting a look at the door of his parent's room as he passed it. They didn't have a choice anymore; Voldemort's downfall would occur tonight and with it, the assurance that the Mage Dragons would remain protected.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!

PaddyWaddy - Generally, any actual slash that occurs in my stories happens at the very end.  
RavenclawBest - True, but perhaps we've all been underestimating him.  
PleiadesWolfe - Narcissa is kinda of an alcoholic and in her own little world.  
Fiery Phoenix - Narcissa is exactly as you've got her pegged. The world became to much so she simply exists in her own mind and chooses only to hear what she wants.  
kasmo - Draco does know what he's doing and exactly what depends on his being able to pull it off.  
Shinigami - Raveana was born with blue eyes but when she bonded with Basta they changed colours. The same would have happened with Harry if he hadn't already had green eyes.  
Shadow of the Shadow - I included a refresher on the dragons in this chapter in hopes of warding off any other confusion. The silver dragon . . . I'm still playing around with its personality and it hasn't actually been named yet.  
Beth Weasley - Thank you very much for the sketch, it was exactly as I had pictured the Mage Dragons.  
TorringMay - Reginald and Raveana's relationship is a part of Malfoy history. This is also why, included in the small room on the third floor, there are separate pictures of both Rav and Reggie (they keep each other company).


	26. The Contents of Vault 235

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

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Chapter Twenty-Five - The Contents of Vault 235 **

Harry jogged up the stairs and strode quickly toward Dumbledore's office. He halted before the gargoyle guarding the passage and rattled off several different types of candy, smiling when the large statue creaked and began to slide out of the way. Moving forward, he rode the stairs upward, his gaze locked on the door growing closer with every cracking thud. When he reached the top, he stepped forward and raised his hand to knock on the door, shaking his head when 'enter' was called before his fist could connect with the wood.

"I need to go to Gringotts," the raven-haired wizard stated, striding across the room and sliding into one of the seats adjacent to the Headmaster. He folded his hands in his lap, dipping his chin slightly and focusing his intent gaze on the older wizard.

Albus Dumbledore frowned and sat back in his chair, absently rolling the quill he held between his fingers. He lifted his gaze to the clock hanging upon the wall, his lips firming as he turned his attention back to the younger wizard. "Aren't you supposed to be in Potions Class, my boy?"

Harry waved the question away, leaning forward in his chair and widening his eyes. "I need to go to Gringotts, now." He returned steadily, ignoring the sigh the gray-bearded wizard heaved at the repeated question.

Realizing that no matter what argument he brought up, the Gryffindor would persist in his demands, Albus sighed and rubbed the side of his face wearily. "If it's that important, Harry, I'll allow you to go. Of course, you'll have to be accompanied by myself-"

"No," Harry bit out, standing slowly. "A portkey to Gringotts and back will be enough. Of course, if you don't want to provide me with one of those, I can find my own transportation." He allowed a smile to creep across his face, knowing that the threat would easily be understood. Currently occupying themselves on the Quidditch pitch, eight of the most powerful dragons in the world were lazing, ready to accept any request Harry made of them.

Acknowledging the fact that a much younger and inexperienced wizard had just out maneuvered him, Dumbledore relented. Taking up his wand, he reached out and grabbed a spare piece of parchment from the pile on his desk. With a quiet whisper and a quick flick of his wrist, the parchment was engulfed in a blue haze. "Only to Gringotts and back." He reminded, holding the paper out to Harry.

Harry nodded in acceptance, lifting the portkey from his professor's hand and backing up a few steps. He flicked his gaze to Dumbledore's and arched an eyebrow. "The word?" He questioned softly, drawing his own wand and holding it above the portkey.

"Dragon," Dumbledore replied evenly, noticing the slight flinch the dark-haired wizard gave. With a nod, Harry gave the magic word and was whisked away.

XxXxX

Hermione bit her lip and glanced at Hagrid, her entire body tensing at the angered squawk emitted from the black dragon struggling on the grass before them. Taking a few cautionary steps backward, she folded her arms and began tapping the toe of one boot, scanning the chaos that had began shortly after Harry had fled the pitch.

What had at first appeared to be a simple game of flying tag had escalated into a flight for survival and ended in disaster. The dark dragon had apparently been it and decided that the much smaller Sandtongue made a perfect target, which had started the brutal chase. After narrowly avoiding a bite that would have severed her tail in half, the little gold executed a sharp dive and shot through one of the large Quidditch hoops, merrily leading the other dragon into an unavoidable collision with the metal ring.

Cringing as the massive Siberian Shade flapped her wings and lashed her tail, the Gryffindor witch shot the half-giant an annoyed look and arched an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Dragons," Hagrid rasped, lifting his hands and rubbing his eyes in disbelief. "Mage Dragons."

"Yes, now what do we do with them?" Hermione demanded in exasperation, dropping her arms and widening her eyes. Shaking her head, she gestured widely at the dragons currently entertaining themselves in various, and mostly destructive, ways across the sprawling lawn. "They're wrecking everything!" She yelped as the black dragon bellowed and made a wild grab for the Sandtongue tauntingly perched just beyond her reach, succeeding only in dragging her metal leash a few inches further.

Blinking down at her, Hagrid scratched his beard and shrugged his shoulders. "They're dragons, Hermione, they're only doin' what comes natural."

"You're going to let them destroy the entire pitch?" Hissed Hermione, hands waving at the scene playing out before them. As the words left her mouth, another one of the metal hoops met its fate, snapping under the weight of the giant blue dragon clinging desperately to it. Both hoop and dragon fell forward, crashing unceremoniously to the ground at the clawed feet of the bickering white dragons. Before the blue had a chance to sort himself out, the Coldmouth and Icefang launched their angered attacks, catching the Greenback in the middle of no-man's-land.

Ron chose that moment to jog up to the pair, placing his hands on his hips and bending over as he panted for breath. "Harry's never going to play Quidditch again." He announced, straightening carefully and wiping at the sweat on his brow.

"I think we have other more important problems to deal with right now, Ron." Hermione muttered primly, tipping her head in the direction of the quarreling Mages. She shook her head dismissively as the wizard gave her an offended look and opened his mouth to retort. "This just isn't the time, Ronald. Now, go and find Blaise and get him to help you free the black dragon; if she keeps flailing around like that she's going to hurt herself."

The redhead gaped at her, blue eyes nearly popping out of his head at the order. "You're joking, right?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder and chuckling nervously as the black dragon focused one swirling orb on him and gave a fierce snarl. Holding his hands up before him, Ron shook his head and backed slowly away from the witch. "I think I hear Luna calling me." With a wiggle of his fingers, the wizard took off in the direction of the school.

Huffing softly, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and glared up at Hagrid, "now what?"

Laughing wryly, the groundskeeper gave the witch a hearty slap on the back and turned away. "I'll go find somethin' ter feed'em." Still chuckling to himself, the half-giant walked away from the Gryffindor witch, calling loudly over his shoulder as he went. "They'll eat an' go right ter sleep, jus' like a bunch o' babies."

Snorting in disbelief at the half-giant's idea, Hermione watched him march in the direction of his hut. "Good luck," she mumbled, turning back around and scanning the pitch. Her eyes widened at the red sphere speeding toward her, her mouth falling open in shock.

The witch shrieked and ducked, lifting her arms to cover her head reflexively. Narrowing her eyes as the ball of fire passed over her, she drew her wand and whirled around, leveling the glowing tip on the seemingly smirking Mage. "Stupefy!" She yelled in satisfaction. Her face fell as the spell struck the black dragon on the tip of the nose and dissolved in a shimmer of sparks. "Sorry," she whispered, retreating back to the side of the pitch and sinking sullenly to the ground. Harry definitely owes me one huge favour, she thought, crossing her arms and watching as pandemonium resumed.

XxXxX

Harry locked his fingers around the edge of the cart and gritted his teeth as he hurtled into the darkness that lay beneath Gringotts. Cold air nipped at his cheeks and burned his eyes, forcing tears from the corners of the narrowed emerald orbs. Sucking air in between his teeth, he chanced a look to the left and cringed, watching as the world blurred before him. He swung his gaze back around, gasping and tightening his grip as the little cart went rumbling down a steep hill. Somewhere within the maze of tunnels and vaults, a dragon roared, the sound bouncing around the hollow caverns. Snapping his eyes closed as he was thrown to the left side of the cart, Harry silently prayed that the Mages were behaving for Hermione.

"Here we are, Mister Potter," the little goblin that had been instructed to accompany him announced. The cart crept to a halt and the brakes were applied with a squeak before the goblin clambered out and accepted the lantern Harry handed him. He waddled forward and stood next to the vault's door, holding his hand out for the little key the raven-haired wizard still clutched. "Key, please," he barked.

Harry dropped the golden key into the goblin's hand and rocked back and forth on his heels, glancing down the row of vaults occupying both sides of the tunnel. His gaze snapped back to the portal of his vault as the door rumbled open, a puff of green smoke escaping the chamber. "I'd like to be alone for a few minutes, if that's permissible?" He asked the goblin, giving a bob of his head as the creature gave him a quick nod and settled the lantern on a small hook next to the door.

"The contents of vault two hundred thirty five have been placed in the back," explained the goblin before turning and strolling back to the little cart.

Drawing a deep breath, Harry caught up the lantern and stepped into the chamber. His eyes roved over the stacks of gold, silver, and bronze heaped around the vault, sliding anxiously to the room's newest additions. He shuffled past the wizarding money, approaching the objects that had been carefully arranged at the back of chamber. A strung bow was sitting atop a dark wooden trunk, a quiver of arrows resting next to it. Daggers gleamed eerily under the lamp's light, displayed atop a strip of dark velvet cloth. Beside the shining daggers were a pile of portraits, the frames of some broken and the parchment inside mangled. Just beyond the pictures was a heap of material, the waterproof cloth draped carelessly over an unrecognizable object.

Stepping forward, he tangled his fingers in the heavy cloth, drawing it slowly off the odd shaped lump. His eyes widened at what he unveiled, a small smile creeping across his lips as he reached out and ran a finger over the cracked leather. A very large saddle sat before him, the multitude of straps tangled and knotted. Water and time had eaten away at the once smooth saddle, causing the leather to crack and rot in places. Stirrups dangled to either side of the seat, the irons marked with rust and grime.

Breathing out slowly, he stepped to the left and pulled the cloth free of the rest of the leather, revealing a second pool of much more refined and carefully cared for straps. A small silver plate caught his eye and had him dropping the cloth he still clutched. Narrowing his eyes, he reached down and lifted the wide strap it was attached to, bringing it closer to his face. His lips moved silently as he read the plaque, absently stroking fingers stilling. "Syren?" He whispered loudly, slowly lowering the band.

Stepping back from the saddle, he eased himself down next to the trunk and chewed his bottom lip. Who was Syren? The name wasn't one he recognized or knew. In his mind's eye a picture of the silver dragon appeared, flashes of emerald and lavender gleaming along his metallic flanks. He bobbed his head at the thought, acknowledging the fact that the name suited the beast who seemed to be able to dwell beneath the ocean's surface.

Turning away from the heap of tack, he carefully lifted the bow and quiver from the top of the trunk, placing them gently aside. Placing his fingers on either side of the wooden lid, he tugged then frowned in confusion. Tipping his head to the side, he yanked again and only succeeded in lifting the front of the trunk off the stone floor. He leaned back and glared down at the trunk, pondering his inability to pry the lid open. Tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers, he stared at the trunk.

"Blood-Sealed," he reminded himself, beginning to trail his hands over the smooth wood. He knew he'd found what he was searching for when a sudden pinprick made him yelp and yank his right-hand back. In a flash of golden-white light, the lid popped open, creaking as it bounced up and down slowly. Glaring down at the blood beading on the tip of his middle finger, he cursed softly and eased the digit into his mouth before lifting his eyes and staring at the trunk.

Sucking gently on the tip of his finger, he used his other hand to push the lid all the way open. He jumped at the loud thud that sounded through the chamber as the wood crashed into the wall, shooting a quick look over his shoulder to see if the goblin had come to investigate the noise. At finding the doorway empty, he rose up on his knees and peered into the depths of the trunk, his eyes widening in disbelief.

A few items rested upon the bottom of the wooden chest, jumbled together amidst the wrinkled folds of a brilliant banner of emerald cloth. Frowning, he found a corner of the material and dragged it free of the mess, snapping it open and laying it on the floor at his side. It appeared to be a green flag. In the center of the triangle, a white dragon stood rampant, wide wings stretching toward the top of the banner. "What the hell?" Harry muttered, brows drawing down as he turned back to the trunk.

A black and blue handkerchief was snagged on a suspiciously sharp quill. Several small miniature dragons carved of rock were scattered upon the wooden bottom, some of them missing limbs. Shining emeralds and rubies spilled from a torn pouch, rattling around as he dug through the contents. A small box held scales from the Mages, black, red, and white, all shining as if they had just fallen from the dragon's bodies.

His knuckles bumped the bottom of the chest as he attempted to scoop a knot of silver from the corner, his body stilling at the hollow thud that sounded from the slight touch. Inhaling deeply, he held his breath and knocked loudly, exhaling in satisfaction as the dull thud was repeated. He moved his fingers to one of the corners, trying to hook the edge of a fingernail beneath the thin board. After several failed attempts, he drew back with a barely contained snarl and searched the chamber. A smile crept across his lips as his eyes landed on the row of dangers. Rising quickly, he moved to the weapons and picked one up carefully, returning to the trunk and eyeing the wood thoughtfully. He lifted the weapon above his head, exhaling loudly as the dagger plunged downward.

In a crack, the dagger split the fake bottom of the trunk and buried itself deeply into the thick wood underneath it. Laughing at his luck, the raven-haired wizard tossed another look over his shoulder before returning to his task. He wiggled the dagger free and tossed it away, falling back to his knees and extending a hand to touch the shredded and crumpled wood. Wincing as a splinter stabbed the pad of one finger, he gritted his teeth and slid his hand into the narrow hole, tugging the thin sheet of wood free. Smiling, he set it aside and reached into the chest, withdrawing the narrow book that had been carefully hidden.

Harry placed everything back in the chest carefully, halting as his fingers slid over the banner. Nodding his head at some internal thought, he waded the material into a ball and jammed it into a pocket. He pushed stiffly to his feet and glanced around the chamber, flipping the lid of the trunk closed with the toe of his boot as he backed slowly away from Raveana's most precious belongings. Tightening his grip on the little book, he spun around and strode from the vault. "I want the saddle and bridle sent to Hogwarts, immediately." He stated as he marched toward the goblin.

"Of course, Mister Potter." The goblin agreed, accepting the lantern from the wizard and placing it at his feet.

As Harry took his seat, the brakes released and the cart trundled down the tunnel, rocking back and forth unsteadily. Closing his eyes, Harry clutched the book and drew a deep breath. Hopefully the answers he wanted would be contained within the pages of the journal he now held. Draco's survival depended on him being able to control and command the dragons and the bond he had with Basta. His lips firmed as he thought of the blond currently at the mercy of his father. "I will be ready," Harry promised loudly, ignoring the questioning look the goblin shot him. Emerald eyes blazing with promise, he tipped his head and stared at the cover of the book.

XxXxX

Hermione stood between Ron and Blaise, her head tipped slightly to the side as she stared at the sight before her. She opened her mouth to comment but shut it quickly when one of the sleeping dragons snorted loudly, a trickle of black smoke drifting from its flared nostrils. Shaking her head in amazement, she glanced up at Hagrid and arched an eyebrow. "How did you know to feed them?" Whispered the witch, wrapping her arms around her waist and shifting nervously.

Hagrid merely shook his head and smiled knowingly, his eyes softening as one of the dragons rolled over onto its back and draped its wings across its belly. Scratching the side of his face, the groundskeeper nodded in the direction of the castle, drawing the attention of Blaise, Pansy, Luna, and Ron. In a ball of angered black cloth, Professor Severus Snape charged across the pitch toward them.

"Detention!" Snape bellowed as he stormed across the pitch, his black robes billowing dramatically behind him. His shouted words seemed to boom over the silent lawn, echoing in the vastness that surrounded the castle and its grounds.

"No," whimpered Hermione, hands lifting to her cheeks as she searched the slumbering clan of Mages for signs of life. A relieved sigh slipped past her lips as several of the dragons stirred and shifted before sinking deeper into sleep, their gentle snores vibrating the earth they rested upon. Raising her gaze back to the approaching Professor, she cringed and clasped her hands behind her back, preparing herself for the dressing down they were about to receive.

Coming to a halt before the small group of students, Professor Snape glowered and crossed his arms, narrowed eyes sweeping over the disheveled bunch. He shook his head as the five students focused intently on the toes of their boots and Hagrid tipped his head back, pretending to search the sky while inching steadily away from the Potions Master. "Miss Granger, please enlighten me as to why the group of you felt it was acceptable to skip my class." Pressing his lips together, he paced slowly down the line they had unconsciously formed.

"Ah, well, you see-"

"It seems I've finally asked a question you don't know the answer to, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor." Snape purred sourly, swirling around and gliding back down the path he'd just taken. The fingers of his right hand drummed steadily on his left biceps, belying the calm expression he wore on his face. "To miss my class without acquiring a note from either myself or Professor Dumbledore warrants a detention. I'll see all of you tonight, and the next four nights as well, at seven o'clock sharp in my office." Nodding in satisfaction, he spun around and began to stalk back across the pitch, treading on the very tip of Black Lady's tail in the process.

The dragon's silver eyes flew open, quickly followed by her jaws as she let loose a bellow of outrage. Rising in a hiss of scales, the Siberian Shade whirled around, dragging the Quidditch hoop and pole with her. Snarling in anger, she dipped her head and prowled slowly after the horrified wizard, her long black wings unfurling with a crack that had the rest of the clan scrambling to their feet.

Blinking away the last remnants of Morpheus, the eight Mage Dragons stared at the black-haired wizard standing silently amidst them, his eyes wide and his wand shakily aimed at Black Lady. Lips curled back slowly to expose dagger like fangs, saliva rolling past gums and sliding down long canines as the group examined the threat.

With a stuttered spell, the Potions Master sealed his fate.

Spitting in disdain, Silverhawk shook the spell off and unfurled his long white and gold wings. Lowering his narrow head, he lurched forward and snapped angrily at the professor, driving him closer to the cloud of steam drifting free of Druid's mouth. Rumbling in warning, the dragons tightened the circle they had formed, concealing their actions from the disbelieving students standing guard.

Wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulder, Ron sighed and shook his head sadly. "I'm so sorry, Professor Dumbledore. There was just nothing we could do, it all happened so fast." The redhead mocked mournfully, lifting his other hand and swiping away an imaginary tear.

Shrugging his arm off, Hermione walked forward a few steps and peered hopelessly at the curled wings and swinging tails of the dragons. "It's not funny, Ron." She hissed, freezing as the green dragon with the silver stripe folded her wings and backed out of the circle. The rest of the clan followed slowly, closing their wings and drifting quietly across the lawn. Upon the grass where they had been gathered, a huddled form rose unsteadily and took a wavering step before collapsing.

"What do you know, they didn't eat him." Ron mumbled, blue eyes widening as Snape scrambled to his feet and took off in the direction of the castle, his burned and shredded cloak flapping forlornly in the wind.

"Don't sound so happy about it," Blaise muttered sarcastically.

"Are you kidding?" Grumbled Ron, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the Mage Dragons. "Perfect opportunity to get rid of the greasy git and they don't even finish the job. Stupid dragons!" Raged the redhead, waving a balled fist at Black Lady. Snorting, he shook his head and spun around, "I'm going to get something to eat."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione glanced back out over the pitch and sighed softly, Snape was going to give them detention for the rest of the year. Hell, he'd haunt them for the rest of their lives for this one. You so owe me, Harry, she thought unhappily. A startled yelp had her diving for the grass and closing her eyes as a ball of fire zipped over her head again. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of burning hair, the witch shut her eyes and groaned.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review! It all begins in the next chapter, ladies and gentlemen. 

HRM-J - I find myself continuously using the dragons as comic relief, using their antics to break up tense moments between the other characters.  
kasmo - Thanks for the grammar pointers and the corrections have been noted. Five more chapters and we'll see the end.  
thrnbrooke - Well, our mystery dragon has been named. The reason this dragon was never recorded in the diary was due to the fact that she didn't actually get to meet him. I suppose more information on the dragons will come out in the next chapter.  
RavenclawBest - Lucius is self-preservative. Until the dragon's actually receive the summons, Harry and Draco are on their own.  
seren - lol, it's been a long time since I've read any of Anne McCaffrey's work. I do remember seeing Eragon and comparing it at every turn with the Pern series, it just wasn't as good in my opinion. I mean, the whole dragon riders thing and the bond between the dragons and their riders practically belongs to McCaffrey.  
Shinigami - Charlie will eventually be brought into the story, as will Neville. The newest dragon was finally named; more information will be coming in the next chapter about this dragon.  
Fiery Phoenix - lol, love the little rhyme. The reason Raveana's riddles are so vague shall be explained in one of the last chapters.  
PleiadesWolfe - Unfortunately I have to put several more things into place before I can allow the final battle to take place, though we will see the beginning in the next chapter. Raveana could have meant Draco, she also could have meant Basta, I suppose we'll just have to see who he thinks she meant.  
Beth Weasley - I've been dying to get a tattoo! I really want one but can't seem to find the time or the guts to actually get it done. And I really know what I want, too. Though I don't think my father would be very happy that I had the Sleeman Brewery logo permanently drawn onto my back. As for McCaffrey's Pern series, I haven't read it in years. I think one of the major characters and a dragon died in the last book I read, it was very sad.  
Scarletty- lol, AFF, eh? Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying the story and thank you for the wonderful review.


	27. Summoning Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six - Summoning Dragons**

Draco ran his hands slowly down the front of the black robe he wore, absently straightening the folds and brushing away imaginary wrinkles. He stood before the mirror in his bathroom glaring angrily at the reflection cast upon it. His features were pinched with distaste, blue eyes narrowed. Sniffing, he picked up the white mask resting upon the marble vanity and held it in front of his face. The mask did nothing to hide the fire burning in his pale orbs, nor did it conceal the revulsion and revolt that he felt at being forced to darn the Death Eater garb. Sneering at his image, he swung around and stalked from the room.

He halted just within his bedroom, hands fisting at the sight of his father perched elegantly upon his bed, ankles casually crossed. Resuming his course, Draco strode to his desk and seated himself gracefully. Swivelling in the chair, he observed his father while sliding his right foot into a black boot. "What are you doing in my room?" He asked finally, running the zipper up the inside of his leg. Patiently waiting for the older blond to respond, he grabbed the other boot and dragged it slowly on.

Lucius sighed heavily, slumping for a moment before shaking his head and straightening his spine. "Tonight, Draco, will either guarantee our survival or be the cause of our deaths. Unfortunately, all this rests upon your ability to play the Dragon's Maw. Neither I nor Severus will be able to cover for you; the Dark Lord will be riveted completely on you and the flute." Lifting a slender hand, the blond combed long fingers through his mass of hair. "Voldemort is fully expecting that the Mage Dragons will arrive shortly after you have called them. I need to ask you, my son, if you think the dragons will come."

Rolling his eyes, Draco rose and stretched fluidly. He turned away from his father and dragged open the top drawer of the desk, pawing noisily through its contents. His fingers snagged the silver chain he'd carefully placed there earlier, pulling it free of the clutter and debris. Spinning around on his heels, he held the necklace up and watched as the charm hanging from it swung back and forth. "Do you know what this is?" He demanded softly, stilling the dangling golden ring with a gentle touch. The flying dragon engraved on the metal winked at him, the emerald twinkling with promise.

"Please answer the question, Draco." Lucius said, leaning forward and squinting to better see the object his son was fondling. Frowning, he shook his head and stood, closing the distance between them in a few long strides. His hand reached out to capture the chain but he found himself clutching only air as the younger blond took a graceful step backward.

"I'll answer your question when you answer mine," Draco responded. Taking a few steps farther away from his father, he slipped the necklace over his head and cupped the ring resting above his heart. He ignored the huff of annoyance Lucius issued, turning his attention to the silver flute sitting forlornly on the small table next to the bed. Moving closer, he perched himself on the dark duvet and tucked his feet beneath the bed. His fingers fell away from the ring in favour of the instrument's shining keys, playing lightly over the rough dragonheads.

"We don't have time for these games," Lucius bit out. Whirling around, he stalked the length of the room, dark robes floating eerily in his wake. He gritted his teeth when Draco remained silent and turned to face him, flexing his fingers in agitation. When his son arched an eyebrow and glanced at the clock, he snarled softly and tangled his fingers in his hair. "I'd hazard a guess and assume it was some expensive trinket you felt the need to purchase but by the way you're handling it I'd say it's a little more than that."

"How observative of you," Draco commented, flicking his gaze to the wizard standing across the room. Shaking his head slightly in amusement, he picked the silver flute up and held it lovingly, thumbs brushing absently over the smooth metal. "Reginald Malfoy married Raveana Draconis; the ring I carry belonged to him. Even if I didn't already hold her flute, the ring would probably guarantee me some power over the dragons. However, the holder of the flute will not command the Mage Dragons; they have already chosen their leader. And to answer your question, the Mage Dragons will come to the call of the Dragon's Maw, their ability to hear the summons across great distances has already been proven."

"Voldemort will be greatly displeased if the dragons refuse to listen to him," Lucius stated.

Draco gave a sharp laugh and wagged his head as he began to disassemble the flute. He placed each piece gently on the night table, fingers and eyes searching for scratches or wear on the instrument. "He'll just have to take that up with Harry than, won't he?"

"What does Harry Potter have to do with any of this?" Lucius demanded angrily, storming toward his son. He halted a few paces away from the smaller blond, annoyed by the amused glint in Draco's eyes. Narrowing his eyes in warning, he planted his hands on his hips and waited for the younger blond to reply.

Draco stood fluidly and picked up the first part of the Dragon's Maw, sliding the delicate section of crafted silver into his pocket. "Surely you've put the pieces together by now, father." He murmured, lifting the second section of flute from the table and placing it carefully into a different pocket. Tipping his head, he peered at the taller blond with a smug smile. "Harry Potter is the only surviving heir of Raveana Draconis, formerly a member of the prestigious Potters. Don't tell me you didn't know."

Lucius stared at his son in slack-jawed fascination. "Draconis was a Potter?" He questioned softly, unable to get his brain completely around the little tidbit of information. His mind raced, trying to put the pieces together and failing miserably.

Draco glanced at the clock before nodding slowly. "The Mage Dragons will come when I call them, but they'll follow only Harry. No matter how well I might be able to play the Dragon's Maw, the Mage Dragons will always look to Harry for their orders. In him, they see her." Gliding across the room, he paused next to the desk and lifted the white mask from where he'd set it down earlier. Raising it into place, he turned back around to face his father. "Are you ready to leave?"

Lucius pressed his hands against his face, fighting down the urge to scream in frustration. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he stroked his hair into place and removed his mask from his pocket. Settling it on his face, he walked toward his son and found himself looking into eyes shining maliciously. He set his hand on his son's forearm, momentarily wondering what thoughts were making Draco's orbs glow with such an evil light. "Ready?" At the subtle nod of the younger blond's head, he flipped his hood into place.

Draco closed his eyes as his father's hand tightened on his arm, his unfettered fingers seeking the cool comfort of the ring hanging about his neck. As he waited for Lucius to apparate, his thoughts raced. What if Harry wasn't ready? What if the dragons left Hogwarts without Harry? What would happen tonight if the Mage Dragons decided that Voldemort was worth following? Gritting his teeth, he crossed his fingers. Moments later, the pair vanished from the bedroom with a quiet pop.

XxXxX

Harry shifted on the grass of the Quidditch pitch, his hands tightening on the book he held. His gaze lifted from the narrow script as a startled yip sounded from across the pitch. Frowning, he watched in amusement as Seamus, Dean, and Neville jogged toward him. Closing the small journal, he rose and brushed dirt from the seat of his pants. He slipped the book into a pocket as he walked toward the three wizards, waving a hand to shoo Esdra away from the flapping end of Neville's cloak.

"Hi guys," he greeted, arching an eyebrow at the heap of leather Dean was helping Seamus carry. A smile brightened his face as he recognized the saddle from his vault, though the leather seemed to have been repaired and returned to its original condition. Gesturing for the trio to place their burden on the grass, he dropped to his knees and ran a hand along the delicate curve of the seat. "Thanks a lot."

Seamus waved Harry's appreciative words off and rubbed his hands together. "Are you going to try and put that saddle on one of these dragons?"

Arching an eyebrow, the raven-haired wizard nodded and pointed at the sleeping Syren. Chewing his bottom lip, he contemplated the Mage. The book he had found in the hidden compartment of the trunk didn't seem to hold any information on the Mage Dragons, far from it in fact. Between the pages of the journal rested the tale of how the witch had been abandoned by her family and left to fight a battle she couldn't possibly win on her own. A very detailed introduction of Reginald and their relationship was also included. Altogether it was a boring read and Harry was considering giving it to Hermione as an early Christmas gift.

"Um, Harry? Help, please." Neville called suddenly, his voice filled with panic and just the slightest bit of desperation.

Swinging his head around, Harry winced and trotted toward the stout wizard. "She's just curious," he called. Esdra blinked amber eyes at him innocently, angular head tilting as he hissed at her in warning. Smiling apologetically at Neville, Harry grabbed the Sandtongue by the horn on her muzzle and attempted to yank her jaws apart. After furiously tugging for several seconds, he realized the golden dragon had locked her teeth together. "I'm really sorry, Neville. I'll buy you a new cloak." Mumbled the dark-haired wizard as he undid the clasp of the other wizard's cloak and freed him from the small dragon's grasp.

"That's alright, Harry." Neville said in a harried voice, quickly skirting both dragon and wizard for the safety of Seamus and Dean. Rubbing his reddened throat, the plump wizard offered a weak smile and glanced nervously about for any other dragons.

Shooting the Sandtongue one last disapproving glare, Harry returned to the saddle and began to gather the leather into his arms. He arranged the straps and stirrups carefully, scanning the pitch and checking the location of each Mage. Finding all of the dragons present and accounted for, he loosed a sigh of relief and picked the saddle up. The weight of the tack surprised him, as did the fact that as soon as he picked it up the head of every dragon in sight went up and swivelled to observe him.

"You're sure this is going to work?" Dean asked, folding his arms as he watched his dorm mate drag the heavy saddle toward the flashy metallic dragon lazing a short distance away. He bit his lip as the dragon opened one glittering eye and watched Harry's slow approach.

"Yes," Harry said firmly. He hefted the saddle and got ready to heave it into position, letting out a cry of shock as the Mage leapt into action. In an explosion of wings, Syren shot into the sky, leaving the Gryffindor sitting on his butt with his lap full of leather. Blinking in shock, he raised a hand and scratched his head, watching the Mage circle lazily above him.

"Are you going to try again?" Seamus called, a huge grin on his face as he shaded his eyes from the sinking sun. "I want to know if I should go and get some snacks from the kitchen, this looks like it could be quite entertaining."

Groaning, Harry flopped back onto the grass and closed his eyes. A warm puff of air had him opening one orb and staring into Esdra's worried eyes. Giving another moan, he closed his eye again and patted the dragon on the side of the face, smirking when she dropped Neville's cloak onto his chest. Grabbing the damp fabric, he sat up and pushed the Sandtongue playfully away. "Tricked you," he whispered, holding the cloak teasingly beyond her reach. Sighing as she grumbled and stalked away, he raised his gaze to the silver dragon floating gracefully through the darkening sky and shook his head. Something told him he was going to be here all night.

XxXxX

Draco's feet settled upon firm ground, his father's hand tightening on his arm before slipping away. Shaking his head to clear it, he stepped away from his father and peered curiously around him. Figures swathed in black were everywhere; they milled about mindlessly, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Lanterns hung in trees, small branches scrabbling at the glass as they swung back and forth. The eerie pools of light they cast danced over the grass and dirt, doing little to push back the darkness. Consciously, he moved closer to the taller blond, seeking the small measure of protection provided by merely being beside him.

"Stay close," Lucius ordered. Shooting Draco a warning look, he glided forward and merged with the crowd. He murmured soft greetings as he passed among the Death Eaters, casually glancing over his shoulder to make sure his son was following close at heels. Before he could move any further into the group, a hand reached out and settled on his forearm, halting him effectively.

Draco almost bumped into Lucius when the taller wizard halted suddenly. Steadying himself with a shaking hand in the center of his father's back, he peered cautiously around the blond's shoulder. His fingers tightened in the dark material as the wizards whispered loudly back and forth, the conversation becoming more heated with every hissed word. With a snarl, the pair separated, the wizard who'd grabbed his father striding angrily away.

"Who was that?" He asked as his father began prowling forward. Rolling his eyes when Lucius ignored him, he lengthened his stride so he could walk beside him. His gaze searched the darkness for anyone that seemed vaguely familiar, slowing as a new figure slid from the shadows. He felt his eyes widen in recognition as his gaze was caught by a pair of black orbs. Snapping his mouth shut, he stepped closer to Lucius and tugged subtly on his sleeve.

"Quiet," Lucius hissed in warning. Sliding a hand into one of the black robe's pockets, he closed his fingers tightly around the handle of his wand. Taking a graceful step forward, he shrugged off his son's hand and waited for the Death Eater to halt before him.

"Lucius," the cloaked figure greeted softly, stopping several steps away from the pair of blonds

. "Severus," Lucius murmured, reaching around behind him and grabbing Draco by the front of his robes. He tugged him from his shadow and placed him firmly in front of Severus, swinging his gaze around to see if any of the Death Eaters had noticed the maneuver. Sighing in relief when the many conversations occurring around them continued, he nodded to the Potions Master. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Severus growled.

"Severus! Is Harry okay? Are the dragons?" Draco asked softly, leaning forward so his questions wouldn't be overheard. Ignoring the hiss of warning his father released, he arched his eyebrows and peered out from behind the white mask he wore. His hands balled into fists as the Potions Master let out a snarl of anger and raised a shaking finger, black eyes narrowing.

"When I see that little brat, I'm going to make sure he never has another free minute to enjoy the rest of his short existence. He'll be lucky if he gets to see the light of day for the next two years!" His hand shook with rage and his voice grew louder with each growled word. Unable to fully express his feelings for the Gryffindor, he made a choking gesture with his hands and sputtered angrily.

Narrowing his pale eyes, Draco crowded the Potions Master and glared up at him. "What did you do?" He asked suspiciously, hand sliding into his pocket and seeking out the comforting touch of cool metal. Wrapping his fingers gently around the delicate keys, he began to tap his thigh impatiently with the other hand.

"What did I do?" Severus repeated in a hiss of disbelief. Rearing back, he folded his arms and began taping the toe of one boot. "I did nothing! If Potter and his friends hadn't skipped my class I wouldn't of had to go anywhere near those stupid lizards. Nor would I have had to waste my breath issuing a detention I won't even have the pleasure of seeing served."

"You gave Harry detention?" Draco hissed, aghast at the very thought.

"No, unfortunately Potter wasn't with them, which made the whole thing slightly less satisfying." Severus grumbled, straightening his spine and brushing his hands down the front of his robes. The arrival of the Dark Lord halted their conversation, bringing the loud voices of the other Death Eaters down to hushed murmurs.

"Silence!" Voldemort bellowed, stalking into the clearing in a rasp of black silk. The dark wizard glided through the Death Eaters, chuckling harshly as they all dropped to their knees in the dirt and bowed their heads. Scanning the crowd for signs of disobedience, he claimed the chair sitting forlornly among the trees. Folding his hands, he slumped into the chair and glanced around. "Lucius Malfoy, where are you?"

Lucius nudged Draco closer to Severus as he rose fluidly, weaving among the crouched figures until he reached the patch of empty ground at the Dark Lord's feet. He sank to his knees again, holding in the grimace of pain that threatened to escape as a sharp stone dug into the muscle of his left leg. "Here, my lord." Pressing his forehead to the ground, he patiently waited to be addressed.

" And your son?" Voldemort demanded, shifting in the chair. His words were cold and sharp, the silent threat in them very obvious.

Draco shivered but rose when Severus pushed him to his feet. Skirting around a trio of Death Eaters huddled together; he quickly made his way to his father's side. Sinking to his knees without hesitation, he lowered his face to the earth. "Here, my lord." He said firmly, fingers clenching at the dirt. Kneeling in the dirt at the feet of Dark Lord was not something he had ever planned on doing, nor was it something he would ever do again. The thought was a comforting one and had him breathing easier.

Flicking his fingers, Voldemort gestured Wormtail closer and waited for him to arrive at his side. Shooting the plump wizard a disgusted glare, he grabbed the wooden box from his silver hand and flipped the lid open. Inside, a silver flute gleamed invitingly, its keys shimmering tauntingly. "Your father say's you're not ready to play this flute, Draco Malfoy. That the Dragon's Maw is beyond your talents. Is he telling me the truth?"

Draco drew a deep breath at the question, the flute resting heavily against his thighs. "I believe that I am ready to try, my lord." He whispered, lifting his gaze enough to look at the flute sitting atop the burgundy velvet. This was going to prove to be a bit of a problem, seeing as the Dragon's Maw was currently in his pocket and the flute in its case was really his own. "Perhaps I might have a minute to practice, my lord. The instrument is old and may be out of tune."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes and glared at the pair kneeling before him, his fingers locking around the arms of the chair. "Fine," he snapped after a moment, waving the Malfoys away from the foot of his throne.

Draco fought back a relieved sigh and grabbed the instrument case. Giving a quick bob of his head in thanks, he scurried backwards with his father at his side. As soon as they reached the shadows at the edge of the clearing, the young blond dropped back to his knees and placed the box before him. He slid his hands into his pockets and pulled out the pieces of the Dragon's Maw, fitting them together carefully. When the instrument was complete, he lifted it to his mouth and played several notes.

"I never said you weren't a good player," Lucius muttered as he snatched Draco's flute from the case and took it apart. Haphazardly jamming the pieces into his pockets, he lifted his eyes to his son and smiled. "You can do this, Draco." With a flick of his wrists, he closed the case and stood, making his way back to where Severus crouched in the dirt.

Staring after his father, Draco gave a shallow nod and ran his fingers the length of the Dragon's Maw. The flute whispered sweet promises, the metal twinkling as the dragons flared and flapped their narrow wings. Closing his eyes for a moment, he inhaled deeply. His snarled name had him dipping his chin and opening his eyes. Turning around, he stared at the wizard watching him from across the clearing.

"Play the flute, Draco Malfoy." Lord Voldemort rasped, settling deeper into the throne sitting in the shadows. His pale face shone with an eagerness rarely seen, a small smirk curving his thin lips. He curved his fingers and gestured the young wizard forward, eyes narrowing slightly when the blond remained where he stood. Opening his mouth, he prepared to issue a threat but remained silent when the small robed figure began to approach slowly.

Draco stopped in a pool of shifting light, the Dragon's Maw cradled in his hands. He ran his fingers over the keys before lifting his gaze to the sky. Above the clearing, the stars glittered knowingly. Exhaling softly, he smiled and daringly met the red eyes of the Dark Lord. "With pleasure," he breathed. Closing his eyes, he lifted the flute to his mouth and began to play.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review! It has officially started!

fraewyn - The quill was just an object in the trunk, though it was probably used in writing both journals and the diary.  
Lady Halaia - lol, over the last couple of chapters I've received that comparison quite a bit. I've not yet had the chance to read Dragonmasters but I've stumbled across it in my wandering and have mentally made a note to get around to it. Originality is one of the hardest things to find when settling down to write a story and I find myself constantly struggling with it.  
tempete - Of course, a Malfoy always keeps his word.  
Shinigami - I had to have a few different things in the trunk so I just kinda of looked around my room. The weapons will be explained later as I've just had a brilliant idea about why they were included in the vault. Many animals generally calm down after eating and will take a short nap, therefore Hagrid assumed the theory would also work on the Mage Dragons.  
misstree - In the final chapter the dragons will find their home.  
hieisdragoness18 - Very soon, although it may not go over quite as well as one would like it too.


	28. Fighting for Dragons

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven - Fighting for Dragons**

The moon hung low in the dark velvet sky, stars sparkling like scattered diamonds shimmering around it. Across the grounds of Hogwarts, a cool breeze stirred the leaves and blooms of trees and flowers. Taunting calls of nocturnal birds and the far away wails of wolves filled the night, making the shifting shadows seem just a little more threatening. Beyond the lake, Hogwarts glowed, its many windows brightened by candles and torches. Water whispered softly as it caressed its sandy banks, reflecting the sky hovering above it.

Frowning, Harry rested his hands upon his hips and glared at the dragon pointedly ignoring him from its position among the black waters of the lake. Paddling serenely around in ever growing circles, the metallic dragon flicked its tail and sent a wave of liquid to lap at the toes of the raven-haired wizard's boots. "Damn it," he grumbled, taking a squishing step backwards only to slip on a wet rock. As his feet flew out from beneath him, he could have sworn he heard the amused laughter of Dean and Seamus. Glaring up at the sky from where he lay on the wet sand, the Gryffindor sighed and pushed himself slowly into a sitting position. In front of him, Syren continued to slide effortlessly through the water.

"Stupid dragon," he muttered, slapping at the sucking sand. Climbing to his feet, he stood dripping on the beach for a moment before shaking his head. It was hopeless. He'd spent several hours trying to coax the silver dragon into accepting the saddle, gaining only snickers and growls for his pleadings and attempted bargaining.

Head down, he began to slog in the direction of the Quidditch pitch, aiming an angered kick at the saddle sitting forlornly in his path. He froze in mid-stride when the earth beneath his feet began to rumble. Whirling around, his mouth fell open and he bellowed in disbelief, watching with wide eyes as the silver dragon shot into the sky. Wings flashing lavender and emerald, Syren let loose a piercing shriek that seemed to thicken the very air he slid through. Droplets of water cast from the tips of the dragon's wings splattered on Harry's upturned face, dotting his glasses. From the direction of the school, a chorus of rumbling roars rose up. The harsh cries brought silence to the Forbidden Forest and sent smaller animals fleeing for the safety of dens and protective undergrowth.

"Draco!" Shouting the Slytherin's name in a combination of fear and relief, the raven-haired wizard took off toward the pitch. His wet clothes slapped at his skin, the heavy weight of the soaking cloth slowing him. Reaching up, he scrabbled at the clasp of the dark cloak, attempting to free himself of its heavy length. With a snick, the buckle released and he stumbled forward, loose gravel sliding under his boots.

By the time he reached the pitch, he was panting for breath and his heels stung from the constant rub of damp cloth. His breath caught in his lungs when he found the lawn deserted; green grasses and rippling cloth the only things moving. Walking forward unsteadily, he spun on his heels, red face turned toward the sky as he desperately searched for the Mage Dragons. He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the black expanse, impatiently waiting for a flash of shining scales or barked greeting. When none was forthcoming, he staggered forward and collapsed to his knees.

"Basta! Silverhawk!" His screams ricocheted through the night, desperation creeping into the words. Holding his breath, he pressed his hands flat against the earth, waiting for the tell tale quiver. Beneath his pale fingers, the grass remained cool and still. Fear rolled through his gut as he stared blankly down at his splayed digits; they'd left without him. He'd failed Draco.

Throwing back his head, he let loose a wordless scream at the star filled sky. Despair and frustration gave way to fear. The Mage Dragons would answer the call of the Dragon's Maw, but what would they do when they got there? He covered his face with his hands, curling his fingers into claws as the possibilities swam through his head. His lungs burned as he fought to breathe, tamping down the urge to cry and give up.

A booming cry broke the silence that had fallen, increasing in volume and strength as a huge scarlet form dropped gracefully from the sky. Folding long wings, Basta regarded Harry carefully, emerald eyes flaming as he dipped his head. The Mage shifted anxiously, turning its head to the west and rumbling softly. Bobbing his muzzle, the King Mage stalked forward until he towered over Harry.

Harry stared at Basta slack-jawed, his eyes wide as the majestic dragon stood above him. He yelped when the Mage pounced suddenly, talons grasping him firmly around the waist as the animal rocketed up into the air. The force of the dragon's take off jarred his teeth together, the rush of air tearing at his short hair. Closing his eyes against the whipping wind, he tucked himself tighter against Basta's chest and grabbed at the talon clutching him. His eyes flew open when a battle cry sounded, the noise ringing like crashing thunder.

A shadow appeared to the right of them suddenly, white wings flapping hard to maintain the harried pace Basta set. With a snap of wings, a second Mage dropped to fly even with them. A third and fourth rose up from below, eyes shining dangerously as they turned their heads toward him. Twining cries slipped from their parted muzzles, sending shivers up his spine. In the distance, lightning flashed, revealing the large forms of half a dozen other Mage Dragons. Harry watched in wonder as the night was filled with Mage Dragons, all of them answering the call of the Dragon's Maw.

XxXxX

Draco's eyes flew open as he brought the melody to a close, flute moving slowly away from his mouth to rest at his side. Drawing a deep breath, he turned his gaze toward Voldemort, forcing down the small bubble of fear that fought to rise within his chest. It was done; the Mage Dragons had been called. His grip on the flute tightened, fingers seeking the comfort of the familiar keys. The subtle movement seemed to bring the entire group back to reality, causing the Death Eaters to shift nervously and glance skyward.

"That's all?" The Dark Lord demanded, glowing eyes focused intently on the young wizard. The abrupt comment lowered the heads of the figures draped in black, bringing their restless shifting to a halt.

Draco dropped to one knee and bowed his head, sliding his hand along the flute as he drew it toward his chest. "Yes, my Lord." Chewing his bottom lip, he dared a quick glance at the cloaked wizard, dropping his eyes when he found the Dark Wizard watching him closely. Locking his eyes on a rock poking out of the earth inches from his knee, he worked to calm his breathing and the quick cadence of his heart.

Seconds drifted slowly into minutes, time creeping by as the group waited for something to happen. Night birds called back and forth, unworried by the humans who remained quiet and seemingly frozen. The cool wind twisted the lanterns dangling from the trees, forcing them into a spinning dance. Branches scratched at the thick glass of their windows, sending chills up the spines of the witches and wizards. With a loud snap, a piece of twine holding one of the lanterns broke, its load plunging toward the earth. Glass shattered as it struck the ground and rolled across the dirt, the small flame sputtering and dying.

"Where are my dragons?" Voldemort snarled finally, standing in a hiss of black fabric. Stalking forward, the Dark Lord glided around the crouched Death Eaters, unerringly making his way to where Draco rested. Circling the hooded figure, he drew his wand and rolled it between his fingers, enjoying the soft hiss of air that left the lungs of the young blond. "My dragons, Malfoy, where are they?"

Draco swallowed heavily, his mouth and throat going dry at the barely veiled threat. Staring intently at the rock next to his leg, he took a long breath and lifted his chin. "My Lord, it could take the dragons several hours to travel from their resting spots." He curled his fingers around the Dragon's Maw as he waited for the wizard to reply, darting a quick look at his father's bowed head. His eyes met blue orbs identical to his own, the soft glow emanating from them causing him to relax slightly. Lucius Malfoy still believed in him.

"You're not lying to me, are you?" Spat the Dark Lord, halting directly in front of the young wizard. He slipped his wand under the blond's chin, lifting his gaze from the hunched form of his father. A smile crept across his thin lips as he stared deeply into the pale eyes, ignoring the hint of revulsion barely concealed within the orbs. "Answer me." The hiss was a command, backed by the increase in pressure applied to the wand holding the blond's chin up.

"I would never lie to you, my Lord." Draco breathed, palms dampening with sweat as the tip of the wand slid along the line of his throat. He held his breath as he fought the urge to shift away from the wand, meeting the probing ruby eyes blankly. A drop of sweat slid down his spine, feeling eerily like the tracing of a finger. Goose bumps rose in the wake of the bead, bringing a shiver to the blond's lithe form that was hidden only by the thick folds of the robes he wore. The wand was withdrawn suddenly, a final hard jab its parting gift. Dropping his gaze, the blond gasped for air.

Frowning, the Dark Lord prowled away from the quivering youth, his wand held loosely in his grasp. Pacing back toward his throne, he skirted around the senior Malfoy and took two short steps before halting. "Your father taught you well, perhaps a little too well." A malicious smile transformed his features as he leveled the tip of his wand on the older blond. Grinning evilly as Draco's chin jerked up, he whispered the spell all of his Death Eaters feared. "Crucio."

Draco cried out, lurching to his feet in horror as his father began to convulse. He took three long strides forward only to stumble to a stop as the tip of the Dark Wizard's wand was pointed at him. Gritting his teeth, he glared at the smirking wizard as his father shook and rolled, hands scrabbling at the dirt and short tufts of grass. Breath seesawing from his lungs, he clutched the Dragon's Maw to his chest. His vision blurred as tears slipped from his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

With a flick of his wand, the Dark Lord ended Lucius Malfoy's pain. "Now, where are my dragons?" Before the young blond had a chance to move, the wand was once again pointed at him. The tip never wavered, firmly fixed on the angered Malfoy standing a short distance away. Dropping his gaze, Voldemort nudged the older blond with the toe of his boot, satisfied with the moan of pain the crumpled figure emitted.

"They're coming," Draco rasped, relieved by the fact that his father was still alive. He tilted his head back and searched the sky, hugging the flute to his chest as the wind picked up. The only thought racing through his mind was that he'd never reach his wand in time. Closing his eyes, he let out a shuddering breath.

Sudden gasps and a strong wind against his upturned face had him opening his eyes. Circling lazily above the group, a massive dragon flared long wings and dipped slowly, cutting off the faint light afforded by the moon. Before it could land, a series of shrieks and gasps sent it swarming back into the sky, each beat of its wings stirring the trembling branches of the trees. Roaring softly, the Mage Dragon cut through the night sky, its scales gleaming ethereally. Sobbing in relief, Draco fell to his knees and watched as his saviour swept across the dark expanse.

"The flute. Play it," Voldemort commanded, observing the dark shadow that floated above the assembled Death Eaters. His wand trembled, the tip falling away from the young wizard to point harmlessly at the ground. Gliding further into the clearing, he tipped his head back and laughed as the Mage zipped over the treetops, the wind from its passing tossing back his hood and sending his robes billowing.

As if under the Imperio curse, Draco raised the flute to his mouth and played a series of notes, musically beckoning the Mage lower. He stood and took a step forward, fingers flying over the keys as he watched the dragon flutter thoughtfully above him. In a rasp of wings, the Mage Dragon slammed dangerous talons into the earth and screamed, narrow head tossed skyward as the ground began to rumble. Lowering its muzzle, the Mage tipped its head and shot him a look, its crest vibrating with each deep grumble.

The dragon was a deep brown with small speckles of bright green and black crawling across its withers and down its spine. A flutter of its wings revealed matching splotches of gold on the undersides, mimicking the orbs that flashed and narrowed. Shifting nervously, the Mage swung its head and snarled, sending the wide-eyed Death Eaters fleeing for the safety of the trees. Raking the earth with long talons, the beast growled and focused on Draco, mouth opening slowly to reveal dripping fangs.

Draco took a slow step backwards, attempting to shift into the heavy shadows that seemed to be overwhelming the light cast by the lanterns. In his hands, the Dragon's Maw grew heavy. The air around him swirled with a pulse of magic, startling him into fumbling the silver flute. His fingers stumbled on the keys, breaking the soothing tune he'd been playing. The dragon bit out a harsh cry, wings lifting and arching above its head. For one second, it appeared as if a massive creature hovered over him, the opened wings doubling the Mage's size.

It was Voldemort who halted the confrontation. Prowling toward the beast with his arms raised above his head, the Dark Lord hissed loudly. The soft whisper of Parseltongue filled the glade, bringing the rumbling dragon to a halt. Easing toward the Mage, the Dark Wizard rambled on, his hands seeming to reach toward the undecided dragon.

A crack of displaced air startled the brown dragon, sending him lunging toward the sky only to slam into a second Mage. The two dragons fought against each other, one struggling to land and the other to return to the safety of the sky. Slapping wings and tails together recklessly, the pair fell the short distance to the earth, their landing shaking the ground. Swinging tails and lashing talons felled trees. Spitting and snapping, the two rolled around in a ball of brown, black, and brilliant pink scales. Death Eaters fled deeper into the trees, ducking falling branches and waving wings.

Voldemort immediately began screaming orders, his wand clutched tightly in his hand. Death Eaters ignored him, too focused on escaping the arguing dragons to bother listening to their leader. Hissing in disgust, he leveled his wand on the pink dragon. "Avada Kedavra!" He screamed, watching in satisfaction as the ball of green magic hurtled toward the thrashing dragon. The dark curse careened into the pink dragon's side, bursting in a shower of sparks before dissipating into nothing.

In the pandemonium, Draco rushed toward his father and Severus. The greasy haired wizard was hauling the blond desperately away from the tussling dragons, his teeth bared with the strain. Wrapping an arm around Lucius' waist, the younger blond steadied both men and increased their pace. A tail slashed the air over their heads, bringing small branches and shredded leaves raining down upon them. It was the groan of green wood breaking that lifted Draco's gaze. "Move," he barked abruptly. Throwing his hip into his father's side, he sent the older wizards staggering away from the falling tee while he dove to the right.

He slammed into the ground and rolled as the tree fell, crashing to the earth and bouncing as it landed. The Dragon's Maw was jarred loose when he slammed into the ground, the instrument spinning away from his grappling fingers. Pushing himself to his knees, he scuttled after the silver flute. As his fingers closed upon the warm metal, the pointed toe of a boot came to rest upon the closed digits, pinning them against the earth. Gasping in pain, Draco raised his pale eyes and met the narrowed red orbs of Voldemort.

XxXxX

Harry clutched at the talons locked around his waist as Basta flared long wings and dropped gracefully toward the dimly lit glade below them. Two Mage Dragons were rolling around in the small space, their thrashing wings and lashing tails becoming instruments of destruction as they connected with trees. Wizards dressed completely in black raced through the brush and falling debris, seeking some measure of shelter in the densely wooded areas. A dragon the colour of a robin's egg side slipped beneath them, momentarily blocking the raven-haired wizard's view.

"I need down there," Harry hollered, banging lightly on the talon wrapped around his waist. His stomach heaved as Basta ducked and twisted, rolling over and furling his wings in one quick movement. Eyes swimming with tears, the raven-haired wizard watched as the ground rushed up to meet them. At what seemed the last minute, Basta opened his wings and halted his descent, letting go of the wizard he held seconds later.

Waving his arms in a vain attempt to slow his fall, Harry snapped his eyes closed and prayed he'd survive the landing. A small body crashed into his before he had a chance to fall far, dagger sharp talons sliding through the cloth of his uniform and piercing tanned skin. Gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs, he opened his eyes and rolled them upwards to peer in relief at the Sandtongue madly flapping her wings. Reaching up, he threw an arm around Esdra's long neck and took some of his weight off her forelegs.

Growling, the small dragon stretched her wings open and glided toward the glade, carrying him closer to the dragons that were still snapping wildly at each other. Readying himself for the rough landing he was about to attempt, Harry was unprepared for the sudden pain that grew in his temples. Crying out, he let go of Esdra to free his hands, pressing fingers to his temples and writhing in pain. His frantic wiggling knocked the Sandtongue off balance, forcing her to release him while she was still above the treetops.

Branches broke under his falling body, the pain nothing compared to the pounding occurring within his head. He slammed into the ground, his body bouncing as small twigs and leaves fluttered to land gently around him. Coughing, he desperately tried to drag oxygen into his lungs, his ears filling with frightened screams and angered roars. Extending a shaking hand, he patted the dirt in search of his glasses, biting down a squeal of pain as his head threatened to explode. Screwing his face up, he rolled over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, moaning as his insides twisted with the motion.

A slight wiggle in the back of his head began to grow, pushing aside the pain and easing the rapid beat of his heart. The feeling grew quickly, warming his body as it slid through his limbs and erased all memory of pain. Taking a deep breath, the raven-haired wizard rose to his feet, holding completely still as he waited for the familiar ache to rush back into his body. Confusion swept through his mind as nothing happened. Blinking up at the sky, Harry lifted bloody fingers and touched his scar. Under the pads of the digits, the skin was warm, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

"Give me the Dragon's Maw." A hissed voice exclaimed, drawing his attention from the rapid healing his body seemed to be undergoing to the arguing pair of wizards across the clearing. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Draco crouched before the Dark Lord, fingers locked on the flute pinned under Voldemort's boot. Striding forward angrily, he ducked the flapping tip of a pink wing and move to confront the Dark Wizard. A piercing scream and the shadow that swept over him halted his march.

A smile curved his lips as a white dragon with gold ribbed wings dropped from the sky and landed on the pair of dragons writhing in the dirt, his arrival halting their antics. Lifting his muzzle, Silverhawk screamed and snaked his neck out, chasing Voldemort away from Draco's crouched form with glistening fangs. Sliding from atop his wiggling perch, the Icefang took one scuttling stride forward and grabbed the blond, lifting him from the ground and pinning him against his narrow chest. Ignoring the Dark Wizard's parseltongue commands and waving wand, the white dragon opened his wings and leapt into the night. The brown dragon followed quickly, fleeing into the sky and vanishing among the predatory forms sweeping lazily across the black expanse.

Walking forward, Harry pulled his own wand from his pocket and tipped his head to the side. "They don't speak parseltongue," he called. Widening his eyes, he ran his wand between his fingers and watched as shock swept over Voldemort's thin face. Behind the Dark Lord, the pink Mage sorted itself out and shot into the sky only to be replaced by a massive scarlet dragon.

"Harry Potter." Voldemort hissed, taking a slow step back as a cool breeze slid between the trees. Thunder crashed directly overhead, lightning flickering brightly and displaying the ghostly shapes hovering above the clearing. The lanterns dangling from the trees swung around in wide circles, the small flames flickering and growing. "What a pleasure."

"I couldn't say the same," Harry replied, sliding sideways. He smiled as Basta arched his wings and parted his jaws. Somewhere above them, the sweet cry of a flute rose with the wind. As the notes trembled to life, the air began to vibrate with the deep rumblings of the Mage Dragons. Rising in volume and intensity, the full force of the flute showed itself with each flap and flare of wing and dip of elegant muzzle.

Believing him to be distracted, Voldemort lifted his wand and twisted his wrist. "Avada Kedavra!" The curse shot through the air, humming loudly as it raced toward its target.

Harry raised his own wand as the evil green magic hurtled toward him, lips pressed firmly together. Ignoring the shaking of his hand, he drew a deep breath and opened his mouth just in time to swear loudly as the earth before him exploded upward. Dirt flew skyward, small pebbles sailing through the air in a stinging rain. Lowering the arm he'd lifted to shield his face, he glared at the wall of rock that had risen from the earth to shield him. "Wow," he breathed, jumping as Voldemort roared in outrage.

The wall crumbled slowly, revealing the Dark Wizard standing silently across from him. Drawing a long breath, Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra." He squinted his eyes to shield them from the light that should have emerged from his wand, gaping when nothing happened. Biting his lip as the Dark Lord began to laugh scornfully, he narrowed his orbs and bellowed the curse again. The pulse of magic that shot from the tip of his wand sent him flying backwards, his other hand lifting to steady his shaking arm. Crying out as the green mist continued to spill from the tip of the wand, Harry's eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.

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A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! One more chapter and the epilogue, guys. 

karenelaine - It would've been nice, unfortunately it wouldn't have been really plausible. I'll see what I can do about Snape.  
fraewyn - There might have been something important in the journal, unfortunately it's too late for that. The journal will be brought up again in the next chapter.  
sbkar - lol, error noted as always. I actually struggled with that one, had both my dictionary and spell checker open in an attempt to figure out what was wrong with it.  
kasmo - yep, Voldemort bit it.  
fragonknight01 - I believe it was the Gryffindors, lol.  
RavenclawBest - Even if he wasn't quite prepared, the time had come.  
Shinigami - Hopefully I'll be able to fit all the characters you want to see into one of the last chapters. Sirius is deceased in this story (I don't think I'll ever forgive J.K.R. for that one).  
Lady Halaia - I update this story every Friday night, as it is currently my primary fic.


	29. A Fond Farewell

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter Twenty Eight - A Fond Farewell

Harry stood silently upon the cliffs of Shirestra, his gaze on the slowly lightening sky before him. The tall grasses lapped gently against his legs as night melted into day, hovering for a short period of time in that moment when everything seemed perfectly still. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing the salty ocean air into his lungs. It was the sound of approaching footsteps that finally forced him from his reverie. Opening his eyes, he turned and glanced at the raven-haired witch standing next to him. Emerald orbs identical to his own were focused on the rolling waters, fingers toying with the gold ring wrapped around the fourth finger on her left hand.

"What happened?" He asked slowly, shifting his gaze to look back out over the water. His brow drew down as he attempted to recall the last thing that he remembered.

Swivelling her head just enough to look at him, Raveana arched a dark eyebrow and shrugged. "Perhaps you died," she offered. Her gaze returned to the crashing waves, hands dropping to smooth down the long folds of the green gown she wore.

Harry stared at the witch incredulously, mouth opening and closing. Giving his head a firm shake, he spit out the first word that came to his lips. "What?" He chewed his bottom lip nervously as he waited for Raveana to respond, folding his arms over his chest. The piercing scream of a gull made him jump, jerking his gaze to the blue sky floating above them.

Chuckling softly, Raveana swung to face him. Tipping her head to the side, she smiled and reached out to rest a light hand on his tensed shoulder. "Life shouldn't be as serious as you make it, Harry." Sighing, she tossed one last longing-filled look at the ocean before swinging around and beginning to walk away.

Frowning, Harry opened his mouth and turned but stilled when a flash of movement in the distance caught his eye. A figure perched atop a chestnut horse waited patiently beside the crumbling castle, their face hidden within the hood of a black cloak. Narrowing his orbs, he attempted to focus on the individual but found it impossible to make out the person's features. His frown deepening, he transferred his attention to Raveana but found himself speechless. The dark-haired witch stood beside a tall grey horse, one of her hands smoothing over its silky shoulder.

The animal was vaguely familiar and he strained his mind to recall where he'd seen it before. It hit him when the raven-haired witch whispered the stallion's name, the soft word bringing the horse's head up. The new position of the grey's muzzle revealed a star-shaped scar situated upon its chest; the old wound located exactly where an arrow should have protruded. "You're going?"

"It's time," murmured the witch. Gathering the reins with practiced ease, Raveana mounted the stallion. She took her time arranging her skirts artfully over the saddle, carefully adjusting and straightening them while waiting for him to understand. When she was done, she peeked over her shoulder and smiled shyly.

"But the dragons-"

"Will be well looked after." Raveana stated firmly. Nudging her mount forward, she directed him closer to the raven-haired wizard before tugging on the reins. "You have everything you need, Harry. Here," reaching out, she lightly brushed his temple with the tip of her index finger, "and here." As she spoke the word, the digit drifted and halted level with his heart. Picking up the reins she'd dropped to express her point, she forced the stallion back several steps before spinning him around.

Harry swallowed dryly and nodded. "I guess this is good-bye," he croaked. Shifting his gaze to the ground, he scuffed at the earth for a second before raising his chin and inhaling deeply. Forcing a smile to his lips, he widened his eyes and lifted a hand in farewell.

Raveana threw back her head and laughed, the abrupt sound causing the horse to snort and prance wildly. "I'll see you around, Harry Potter. Maybe not tomorrow or next week . . . but we will meet again, this I can promise you." Still chuckling, she buried her heels in the stallion's sides and sent him cantering toward the dilapidated manor only to bring him to a sharp halt several strides later. Staring at him from atop her dancing mount, she smiled. "Oh, and my manor. Please see that it's taken care of properly." Nodding her head in a gesture of finality, she spun the horse around and sent him thundering toward the waiting rider.

Harry lifted a hand and waved goodbye, smiling broadly as the cloaked rider reached out and grabbed the bridle of Raveana's horse, bringing the pair to a sliding stop. Though the light wind that had risen didn't bring the rider's words to his ears, he had a feeling that the witch was being sternly lectured. Chuckling softly, Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and tipped his head back. Listening to the rumble of the waves and the screaming of the gulls, the raven-haired wizard agreed with Raveana: his life was overly serious. Deciding he'd had enough, he sighed and dropped his chin, finding his eyes locked with a pair of pale blue orbs. Even as he opened his mouth in surprise, the dream dissolved.

XxXxX

Harry groaned and cracked his eyes open, blinking against the bright light that filled the room. Lifting a hand, he rubbed his forehead and yawned, wincing as his jaw cracked. He sniffled loudly before frowning and focusing on the ceiling, silently considering the white rafters. A vague feeling of recognition filled him and he tilted his head back to confirm it. Glaring unhappily at the brass headboard, he groaned and rolled slowly to the side. His hands froze on the rough white hospital linen as he realized the bed next to his was occupied. Glancing around the room only to find it completely abandoned, he sat up and leaned toward the figure curiously. The strands of blond hair peeping out from under the blanket had him gasping and lurching out of bed, stumbling the short distance to tear the covers away. "Draco!"

"Mister Potter," Lucius Malfoy snarled softly. Yanking the blankets from the lax grip the younger wizard now had on them, he pushed himself carefully into a sitting position. "Must you yell?" He demanded as he struggled to rearrange his pillows. With a hiss of defeat, he sank back and crossed his arms atop the covers.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief even as his face flushed in embarrassment. Reaching up to rub the back of his head, he dropped his gaze to the arms the blond had crossed over his chest. He stared at the pale skin in startled fascination, reaching out and grabbing the blond's forearm without thought. "It's gone?" Tightening his grip as Lucius began to struggle, the dark-haired wizard ran his eyes up and down the unmarred skin. The snake and skull tattoo that should have been engraved into the man's arm was gone. Surrendering the appendage, he ran his tongue over his lips and gave a brief bob of his head. "Let me see your other arm."

Narrowing his blue eyes, Lucius folded his arms and curled a lip. "No," he bit out. Smirking as the Gryffindor glared at him in disgust, he snuggled back against the pillow and closed his eyes. The soft scuff of a foot was the only warning he was given before a body landed atop him. His air left him in a huff as his eyes flew open, hands shoving at the individual sprawled across his chest. Grappling angrily over possession of his arm, he planted a hand firmly in the center Harry's chest and pushed. "Get off!"

"Mister Potter!" Madame Pomfrey yelped, rushing toward the struggling wizards. Hands waving wildly, she came to a stop next to them and attempted to pull the pair apart. "Remove your self from Mister Malfoy at once!"

"Not until he shows me his arm," Harry hissed, locking his fingers around Lucius's wrist and trying to pry it away from his chest. The tug of war over the limb continued for several long seconds, both wizards and witch pushing and shoving indiscriminately. It wasn't until Lucius sat up suddenly that Harry was thrown from his position.

Whimpering as the back of his head crashed into the stone floor, he gave one last futile tug and managed to yank the blond off the bed after him. However, Lucius managed to land almost completely on top of him, putting a quick end to the dispute. Gasping for air, Harry blinked woozily at the pair of bare forearms swung tauntingly over his face. "Bastard," he moaned out. Desperately sucking much needed oxygen into his lungs, he closed his eyes in relief and allowed his head to fall back against the floor.

"Language, Mister Potter." Pomfrey scolded, hauling Lucius back off the floor and directing him back into his bed. Shaking her head and mumbling angrily, she fluffed his pillows and dragged the blankets up to his chin before transferring her attentions to Harry. "Off the floor, now."

Swatting away the witch's hands, Harry pushed himself to his feet and stood swaying dizzily next to his bed. Ignoring the sneer Lucius had pinned on him, he allowed the mediwitch to guide him into bed and arrange the covers to her liking. With a final pat and a carefully worded warning, Pomfrey sailed from the room muttering under her breath. As soon as the door of her office swung shut, the dark-haired wizard tossed back the blankets and climbed out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Lucius growled, watching Harry scamper across the room on the tips of his toes. Smiling smugly, the blond sat up and turned his gaze in the direction of the mediwitch's door. "Pomfrey, he's escaping!" His eyes widened eagerly as the door flew open and the witch came rushing into the room, her face screwed up in a grimace of outrage as she peered at Harry's empty bed.

Whirling around as the double doors behind her flew open, she narrowed her eyes and strode angrily after Harry's retreating form. "Mister Potter! I didn't say you could go," Madame Pomfrey bellowed, standing in the open portal of Infirmary and watching as the young wizard vanished around a corner. Huffing unhappily, she spun around and leveled an icy glare on Lucius.

"I want another pain potion. All your yelling is making my head ache."

XxXxX

The Great Hall was abuzz with whispers. Voices rose and fell away in excitement amidst the flood of owls, the birds having only recently been allowed to return to their normal duties. Students scurried back and forth between the House Tables, exchanging rumours with friends and family. The topic of every conversation was the destruction of Voldemort. Although the actual details hadn't been released, the Dark Lord's death was now common knowledge. It was this information that had the student population in a tizzy.

Shaking his head in disgust, Draco lifted his fork and stabbed the last sausage on his plate so hard the tines went straight through and screeched against the metal. Lifting his knife slowly, he gave the blade a thoughtful look before returning his narrowed eyes to the Hufflepuffs. Under his angered glare, the other students paled and ducked their heads, shifting their topic of conversation abruptly. Smirking triumphantly, the blond resumed eating.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Ron demanded, toying with the fork laying beneath his fingers. Ignoring the elbow Hermione jammed into his ribs, he frowned and transferred his fidgeting fingers from the fork to his glass of orange juice.

Flicking his eyes up from his plate, Draco straightened slowly. He placed both fork and knife upon his plate, lifting the napkin he'd placed on his knee and dabbing delicately at his lips. When the redhead's gaze turned stormy, the blond smiled and tossed the soiled cloth on the table beside his dirty plate. "Patience is a virtue, Weasley."

Further conversation was cut off as silence swept through the Great Hall, heads turning and mouths closing in a wave of unwanted quiet. Arching a delicate eyebrow, Draco shifted his gaze. His eyes widened at the sight of a red-faced Harry Potter, the dark-haired wizard bending over slightly and resting his palms on his thighs while he panted for breath. Someone started clapping excitedly, the cheerful gesture picked up and expanded with shrieks and yells. Before the startled Gryffindor could do anything, students swarmed forward, grabbing and pushing to reach his side.

Draco snorted as he raised his teacup to his mouth, watching with arched eyebrows as Harry shook hands and nodded in confusion. "Poor boy," he muttered, shooting Blaise and Pansy an amused look. Placing his cup back on the table, he crossed his arms and rested them upon the table. His eyes searched for Harry among the crowd, passing over the bouncing Gryffindors and screeching Hufflepuffs. A smile slid across his lips when the raven-haired wizard pushed his way through the group, bight emerald eyes landing on him. With a gin twisting his features, the Saviour headed toward the Slytherin table.

"Hi," Harry said, sliding onto the bench between Hermione and Ron. He gave Draco a sheepish look as he poured himself a cup of juice, gritting his teeth when a passing student slapped him heartily on the shoulder. Shooting the student's back an agitated look, he mopped up the juice he had spilled with a clean napkin before taking a fortifying sip from the glass. Licking his lips, he lowered the cup and took a deep breath. "Okay, somebody tell me what's going on."

"You killed Voldemort," Ron hissed in startled shock. Shaking his head as Harry gave him a stunned look, the redhead drew back his hand and dealt him a happy pat to the middle of the back. Pretending not to see Hermione shake her head in warning, he repeated the gesture, sending Harry lurching forward on the bench. "Congratulations, mate, you did it."

Biting his lip so Ron wouldn't see his wince of pain, Harry lifted an eyebrow and peered into Draco's glowing orbs. "What happened?" He asked, wrapping his hands around his glass. A sudden whoop of joy had him tensing, head swinging around only to get a face full of red and gold shirt. Shoving free of Seamus's arms, the dark-haired wizard shook his head and motioned for the Gryffindor to remain quiet. Turning back to Draco, he sighed and arched an eyebrow plaintively. "Please."

"The spell that you cast was amplified by your connection with Basta." Draco explained softly, shifting his gaze to the trio of Ravenclaw students eavesdropping a short distance away. "Everything within a two hundred-meter radius was killed, trees, animals, and Death Eaters. That entire section of forest is black and will likely be like that for a very long time. You and Basta were the only things that survived the . . . killing curse."

"Everything?" Harry asked in horror. He dropped his head into his hands, staring at the dark wood under his elbows as he contemplated exactly what that meant. Without even meaning too, he'd killed harmless animals and quite possibly anyone else who may have stumbled upon the scene. If Silverhawk hadn't retrieved Draco when he did, the blond would probably be dead right now. Sucking in a deep breath at the horrifying thought, the Gryffindor scrubbed at his face with the heels of his hands. He stayed in that position for several minutes, silently berating himself while the group waited for him to regain his composure. When he finally straightened and lifted his chin, he found himself peering into bright blue eyes that shone knowingly.

Lifting his shoulder in a slight shrug, Draco answered the gasped question. "The killing curse was exaggerated to such an extent that it chewed its way through everything it touched." Reaching out, he caught one of Harry's hands and squeezed it comfortingly. "I think, perhaps, that it may have been my fault. I was playing the Dragon's Maw and the Mage Dragons-"

Hermione sat up with a hiss, her eyes widening as she snapped her fingers in realization. "The journal! Remember the hidden line from Raveana's music journal? 'Combine Mage and Maw and you'll have a greater power then anything ever foresaw?' That must have been what it meant!" Practically bouncing in her seat, she stared at Harry as he tipped his head and considered her thought.

Nodding his head, Harry shifted his gaze from the pale hand clasped around his to Hermione. "It makes sense," he breathed. Running his thumb over the back of Draco's hand, he gave a sigh of relief, glad that he wasn't directly to blame for the death of dozens of Death Eaters and animals. Relaxing his posture, he gave a small smile and glanced around the Great Hall. The sight of his fellow students laughing and joking in such a carefree manner made his chest tighten. Slipping his hand free of Draco's, he rose slowly and stepped over the bench. "I need some time . . . just to think about everything that's happened." Giving the group a tight smile, he made his way from the Great Hall.

Draco frowned and watched the dark-haired wizard leave the large chamber. Shaking his head, he stood and gave the startled Gryffindors and Slytherins a small nod before discreetly trailing after Harry. He wasn't surprised when the wizard headed for the Quidditch Pitch, his strides long and purposeful. Students who passed the Boy-Who-Lived in the corridors nodded respectfully or greeted him cheerfully, not one of them noticing how awkwardly Harry returned their head bobs and waves.

Chewing his bottom lip as they arrived upon the green lawn, he halted and watched as Harry scanned the pitch in search of the Mage Dragons. However, the pitch was empty; completely devoid of the creatures who'd called it home for the past few days. The signs of their occupancy were everywhere; in the broken and bent Hoops and scorched grass to the charred and crumpled remains of the Ravenclaw Stands.

Trekking slowly across the lawn toward a confused Harry, he halted and tipped his head to the side. "They've gone." His statement caused the emerald-eyed wizard to wheel around, brows drawn down and lips pursed. "After they deposited us here, they all flew away."

Sinking slowly to rest upon the lawn, Harry shook his head and buried his fingers in the grass. "Why? It's not safe, not yet." Tipping his head back, he peered up into the blue sky, searching for a Mage cavorting among the clouds. After several seconds of desperately scanning the horizon, he dropped his gaze and stared at the blond. "Have you tried to call them back?"

Draco gave a nod of his head as he walked toward Harry, stopping beside him and lowering himself gracefully to the ground. Wiggling closer to the raven-haired wizard, he wrapped an arm around his waist and settled his chin atop his shoulder. "There wasn't so much as a rumble when I called them." Inhaling deeply, he leaned forward and settled more comfortably against the Gryffindor, using the other wizard to prop himself up.

Shifting one of his hands to entwine his fingers with Draco's, Harry closed his eyes and thought hard. The Dragons weren't responding to the flute's call. That could mean any number of things, unfortunately he didn't know what. His mind drifted back to the conversation he had had with Raveana, the wheels turning slowly as he fought to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The witch had told him the dragons would be well looked after and that she was leaving. Forever.

Pulling lightly at the grass next to his knee, he opened his eyes and grinned. If Raveana felt she could safely leave without having to worry about the Dragons, then everything truly would be all right. Snuggling back against Draco, Harry flicked his gaze toward the sky and smiled. The warmth of the blond was comforting, as was the knowledge that the Mage Dragons were safely hidden away once more. Tightening his hand over Draco's, he wondered how long the Dragons would wait for him to assure their protection before revealing themselves to the wizarding world.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! My apologies for the late update as well as a reminder that the next chapter shall be the last.

sbkarr - Oops, I guess time got away from me. Truthfully, I couldn't figure out how to end this chapter so I've been toying around with it between frolicking on the beach and partying with friends. I still don't like how I ended it but hopefully the next chapter will make up for it. The wall of earth was created by Basta.  
fraewyn - Your guess was right. Channeling to much energy caused Harry to pass out.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - Yep, he's dead.  
Shinigami - lol, poor Voldie never stood a chance against a fleet of Mage Dragons.  
fragonknight01 - It seemed only fair. He did, after all, downplay Draco's talent.  
Shadow of a Shadow - Don't worry, we all have them . . .  
hieisdragoness18 - Basta caused the small earthquake to protect Harry.  
Lady Halaia - lol, you can't always please everyone.  
TorringMay - Yeah, Basta helped heal Harry.  
Fiery Phoenix - There is only one more chapter, which I shall enjoy writing very much.


	30. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

A/n: Better late then never!

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_Two Weeks Later_

The large room was completely silent, not a cough or whisper breaking the somber mood of the individuals gathered within the chamber. With a drawn out groan, the single door on the left side of the room was slowly pushed open, allowing the fifty members of the Wizengamot to enter. Parading to their places upon the upraised benches, the plum robed witches and wizards quietly arranged themselves. In moments they were all seated and staring out over the small crowd, their eyes narrowed and stern. Seated at the very center of the Wizengamot, Cornelius Fudge shuffled his sheaf of parchment and swallowed noticeably.

Harry wiggled in discomfort, the wood of the bench he was perched upon creaking in protest. The pale hand resting on his knee tightened in warning, bringing his restless shifting to a halt. Slumping back against the dark wood, he dropped his hand onto Draco's and tangled their fingers together. His eyes wandered over the severe expressions plastered on the faces of the old witches and wizards sitting before him. Gritting his teeth, he glanced over his shoulder at the people crammed into the bench behind him. He attempted a smile when Hermione nodded and gave him a quick thumb up, tipping his chin slightly so he could locate Remus among his supporters. A relieved sigh slipped past his lips when the werewolf winked at him, his body relaxing one muscle at a time.

Banging his gavel to bring the wizarding court back into session, Cornelius Fudge pursed his lips and glared at the papers he held. With a moue of regret, he raised his eyes and addressed the group. "After careful consideration and deliberation, we, the Wizengamot, declare the Mage Dragons a protected species."

Harry leapt to his feet with a whoop of joy, right fist pumping the air above his head. Around him, his friends rose up, clapping loudly and hugging each other. Ignoring the Minister's futile attempts to regain control of the court, the raven-haired wizard dragged Draco to his feet and threw his arms around his waist. Seeing the same excited gleam in the blond's pale eyes, he slammed their lips recklessly together in a congratulatory kiss. The surprised grunt his sudden attack drew forth had him chuckling and pressing closer, gliding his hands up and down the smooth planes of the blond's back. Mindlessly massaging, Harry continued to happily suck and nibble on the Draco's upper lip.

A sharp ache erupted in the back of his skull and he gasped in pain, coughing as Draco took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into his gaping mouth. Pushing away from the blond, he slid a hand through his hair and gingerly felt the lump growing on the back of his skull. Narrowing his emerald orbs, he turned and glared at the tall blond who sat directly behind him. Curling a lip in a silent snarl when Lucius merely widened his eyes and changed his grip on the silver head of the cane he held, Harry rubbed the back of his head and glanced at his friends.

The shocked expressions they wore had his face reddening and he quickly spun around to look at the Wizengamot. His blush grew as the respectable members of the court stared at him in outright surprise, whispering softly back and forth. Clearing his throat, Harry gave the group a small wave before grabbing Draco's hand and towing him quickly from the room. He ignored the inappropriate catcalls that trailed after them, hazarding a quick look around the dark hallway outside the dungeon courtroom before making a run for the entrance.

"Slow down," Draco ordered lazily, making an effort to appear serene and collected as he was pulled through the corridors and open rooms of the Ministry. He squeezed the hand held within his own, trying to soothe away the raven-haired wizard's embarrassment with a comforting touch.

Slowing his pace slightly, Harry tossed a peek over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. The movement sent shafts of pain racing through the back of his head and he immediately reached to touch the throbbing bump. Glowering angrily, he lightly stroked his injury. "Your father hit me," he accused as they reached the dark hall where the Fountain of Magical Brethren stood, the golden figures shining brightly.

Smirking, Draco slipped his arms around Harrys waist and dragged him closer, halting their march to the waiting fireplaces. Eyes glowing seductively, he bent his head just a bit and whispered softly into the raven-haired wizard's ear. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Stiffening within the blond's arms, Harry considered the offer. Licking his lips as Draco's breath ghosted over his ear, he inhaled sharply and shook his head frantically. The warm slide of a tongue along the tip of his ear had him freezing and clamping his lips together. Brows drawing down, he reconsidered the blond's offer. "Later, perhaps. Right now we have other stuff to do." Wiggling free of Draco's loosening grip, he led the way toward the nearest floo line and crossed his arms impatiently.

Shrugging his shoulders, Draco fell in behind the raven-haired wizard. "I'm holding you to that," he muttered. Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright flash of green as Harry vanished in a whoosh of flames, he shifted uncomfortably and peered around. His gaze was caught by the watchful eyes of the gray-haired witch standing in the line next to him and he cringed internally as the old bat hauled her oversized bag closer to her chest. Smiling sweetly, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the empty hearth. As he tossed the green mixture to the ground, he barked out the name of his destination and closed his eyes.

XxXxX

Shirestra stood proudly upon the cliffs, its recently repaired windows reflecting the light of the sun. Ivy crawled up the walls and encircled the stone banister of the terrace, giving the manor a wild and untamed look. The gravel of the driveway had been raked and the magical locks on the gates changed. Smiling at the sight, Harry trailed his fingers through the long waving grasses that grew above the manor.

In two weeks much had been accomplished. The once crumbling and dilapidated manor no longer resembled a pile of broken wood and weathered stone. Under the careful tools and hands of carpenters and gardeners, the manor was restored to its prior majesticness. Warped wood was removed and replaced with smooth planks. Mold and bat ridden cloth was taken and burned; bright silks and velvets substituted in its place. Where the rubble of the outer buildings had rested, now new grass and plants grew. As Raveana Draconis had requested, so had Harry Potter done.

Turning away from Shirestra, the raven-haired wizard looked out over the eerily still waters of the ocean. Rather than crashing relentlessly against the base of the cliffs, the waves lapped gently, licking at the dark rock. It was surely a good sign, he thought. Glancing at the blond standing silently beside him, he cleared his throat softly and slid his hands into his pockets. "Are you ready?"

Flinching as he was drawn from his daydream, Draco nodded and slipped a cold hand into the pocket of his dark robes. His fingers wrapped around the warm length of metal resting in his pocket, the silver seeming to hum with power. Withdrawing it carefully, he retrieved the second section from his other pocket and pushed them together. "You're sure this is going to work?" He asked quietly, tightening his grip on the instrument as the wind made the flute sing.

Harry gave a brief bob of his head, catching the whipping ends of his cloak and dragging it back against his body. He inhaled the salty air deeply, enjoying the atmosphere that surrounded the castle and its ground. His hands balled into fists as Draco began to play, eyes searching the delicately rolling waters.

Holding the flute against his lips, Draco played the Dragon's Maw calmly. His fingers skimmed over the dragon head keys, flexing and relaxing as the melody twined itself around him. In his mind he could see each note, knew exactly which bar he was on in the summoning song. Taking a quick breath between notes, he almost faltered when Harry gasped excitedly. Following the raven-haired wizard's waving finger, the blond's eyes widened and his fingers picked up speed. The crisp notes rang clearly, becoming more piecing as the pale waters began to roll and thrash. Waves slammed against the cliffs, creating dozens of misty rainbows as droplets of water shot into the air before falling back into the churning ocean.

"There!" Harry shouted, bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes as a dragon exploded out of the surf. Shaking water free of its wings and tail, the bronze Mage climbed higher into the sky. Laughing wildly in exhilaration, the emerald-eyed wizard thrust his arms into the air and spun around. His antics were halted by a roar that rang like thunder and a brilliant flash of lightning. Snapping his mouth closed, he shielded his eyes with his hands and scanned the sky.

Lowering the Dragon's Maw as he played the final note, Draco pointed out the familiar black dragon coasting above the churning waters. "She's there," he called, gesturing at the dark form with the flute he held. His gaze was torn from the Siberian Shade as dozens of other dragons burst free of the water, shooting into the sky like brightly coloured stars.

Mages of every colour and size fought free of the ocean, dragging themselves from the surf with strong beats of their wings. Water slid along scales of the deepest purple, rolled down slender necks the colour of autumn leaves. They filled the pale afternoon sky; circling and diving as they broke into small groups and drifted away. As the roars and shrieks of greeting and warning faded, the churning surf settled and sank into its normal soothing tempo.

Minutes after it had begun, it was over. Where once dozens of dragons had flew, only eight remained. The Shirestra cliff clan barreled through the sky, celebrating their freedom with a winding dance that carried them over the heads of the two wizards and further inshore.

Throwing an arm over Harry's shoulders, Draco hauled him closer and watched as the small clan of Mages disappeared in the distance. "Do you think they'll find their way back to Hogwarts?" He asked, narrowing his eyes as if to catch one last glimpse of the Mage Dragons.

Punching Draco playfully in the arm, Harry slid out from under the blond's shoulder and led him toward the castle. Glancing in the direction the clan had vanished, he gave a small shudder. "I hope not. The Quidditch Pitch couldn't survive another visit from them." Cringing at the thought, he wondered if Madame Hooch would ever forgive him and allow him to play again.

Chuckling softly, Draco trailed after Harry, the Dragon's Maw gently clutched in his hand. They climbed the steps at the front of the castle, entering through the gleaming double doors. Squeezing Harry's hand one last time, he wiggled the flute and nodded his head in the direction of the bright corridor that led down the west side of the structure. "I'm going to put this away. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes." After receiving a quick nod of acknowledgment, he let go of the raven-haired wizard's hand and headed down the hall. The heels of his boots thudded loudly on the floor as he made his way to room Harry had selected to be the home of the flute. Of course, the Dragon's Maw wasn't the only thing that occupied the large room.

A bank of windows looked out over the cliffs, allowing an individual to stand within the warmth of the castle and watch the rolling waves and hissing grasses. The floors were constructed of a pale wood, making the room appear brighter and cozier than its size would lead one to believe. Hanging upon the wall that held the door, fourteen portraits of dragons rested. Each picture held a different Mage, all of them lazily watching him as he strode across the chamber. The blond came to a stop under a fifteenth portrait, his hands gently settling the Dragon's Maw upon its bed of burgundy velvet. Lifting his eyes, he met the smug gaze of Raveana, her emerald eyes shimmering knowingly.

"My lady," Draco murmured politely, flipping the lid of the instrument case closed and bowing his head. As he turned to leave, the portrait on the wall opposite the raven-haired witch caught his eye. Reginald Malfoy smirked at him and winked; slumping deeper into the chair he sat on. Shaking his head, the blond lifted a hand in a silent wave and left the room.

Raveana and her glass casket had been relocated to the Malfoy Mausoleum where she was, grudgingly, placed next to Reginald. Lucius had made a fuss about the addition to the family tomb but had relented after a carefully worded threat from Draco. The pensieve that had belonged to Reginald Malfoy was moved up to the library, it contents shared between Harry and Draco before being dumped into the ocean. The ebony bowl awaited new memories, hopefully ones that were happier than those it had originally held.

Draco paced through the doors into the library, peering around the dark room in search of Harry. Frowning when he was unable to locate the raven-haired wizard, he slid his hands into his pockets and strode between two of the nearest shelves. "Harry?" He called softly, wincing as his voice echoed around the rafters. A loud thud garnered his attention and led him toward the far corner of the library where he found Harry perched dangerously upon a narrow ladder.

"What are you doing?" Reaching up, he took one of the books the other wizard held and tucked it under his arm.

"Hermione asked me to bring her some books back," murmured Harry, glancing quickly at the blond. Chewing on his bottom lip, he turned his eyes to the shelf above his head and hummed in thought before dragging another tome from the line. He slid the book under his arm as he clambered carefully down the ladder, ducking his head so he could watch where he was going. "Are you ready to go back to Hogwarts? It's almost dinner."

"Yes, I'm getting hungry anyway." Draco announced, handing the book he had taken from Harry back to the dark-haired wizard. Trailing after the Gryffindor as he moved through the library, he ran his fingers idly along the spines of the dusty tomes and read the authors names.

"Good, then we can leave." Harry muttered, pausing next to the table before the fireplace and picking up the bad he'd placed there earlier. He took a minute to jam the books he had picked up into the bag before tugging the strings closed and swinging it over his shoulder. Gesturing Draco toward the fireplace, he lifted the gold lid off the floo dish and took a large handful of the green powder. Replacing the lid, he caught up one Draco's hands and dumped a liberal amount of powder into his hand before indicating that he should floo out first.

"I'll see you in a few," the blond said, placing a quick kiss on the raven-haired wizard's cheek as he slid past him into the large fireplace. Whirling around, he tossed the powder to the stone floor and vanished.

Rolling his eyes over the blond's dramatics, Harry stepped into the fireplace and gazed out into the dark library. Smiling at the dusty shelves and toppled piles of books, he let the green sand slip between his fingers. In a whoosh of emerald fire, he vanished from Raveana's library.

XxXxX

It was dinner at Hogwarts and the Great Hall was bustling with activity. Many students were chattering happily while they gorged themselves on chicken and potatoes, others were patiently waiting for dessert to appear. At the Slytherin table, Ron, Harry, Blaise, Draco, and Pansy were having a fairly civilized conversation. Well, aside from the slight teasing on Harry's behalf, the conversation was polite and intellectual.

"S-i-r-e-n or S-y-r-e-n?" Blaise asked slowly for the second time.

"The second one," Harry mumbled with a delicate wave of a hand. Frowning, he snatched the last drumstick off Ron's plate and placed it on his own.

Blaise snickered at the response, exchanging an amused look with Pansy while Draco just shook his head sadly. Clearing his throat, he swung to straddle the bench and set his fingers to unzipping the tall boots he wore. Winking at Draco, he slipped the leather boot off his foot and set it on the table in front of him. "So, Syren was engraved in the leather and spelled exactly like this?" He asked, tapping the intricate writing with the tip of his index finger.

Shooting the boot an annoyed look, Harry bobbed his head and lifted the drumstick to his mouth. "Exactly," he muttered, licking his lips as the smell of chicken wafted into his nostrils. The redhead sitting next to him turned just in time to watch him take a large bite from the thieved meat. Shrugging in apology, he watched the Slytherins sitting across from him exchange identical looks of disgust.

"Syren is a producer of leather goods. Seven generations of witches and wizarding specializing in the crafting of leather." Blaise stated, lifting his cup of tea in salute. "Congratulations, Harry, you've just named a dragon after my boots."

Shifting his shocked gaze between Draco and Blaise, Harry almost failed to notice Hermione's arrival. A hard tap on his shoulder caused him to jump, jerking his chin up in time to see the witch gesture him over. "You're joking, right?" He demanded, sliding over on the bench so she could sit down next to Ron. Placing the partially eaten drumstick on his plate, he dropped his head into his left hand and closed his eyes. "No wonder that damn dragon wouldn't come when I called him." Shaking his head over the error, he flicked his eyes back open and peered in confusion at the empty plate resting beside his elbow. Turning his head, he glared over Hermione to where Ron was wolfing down the last few mouthfuls of chicken.

"Did you read this?" Hermione asked, interrupting his narrow eyed glare. She dropped the small book she held on the table, ignoring the light thump it made as empty glasses tinkled softly. Already assuming his answer was going to be no, she shook her head and tapped the cover with her index finger. "Raveana wrote this after being married to Reginald for two weeks. It's an autobiography. And it's amazing! The things she wrote about! Did you know Reginald had a-"

"Enough!" Harry choked, cheeks reddening as he lifted a hand to ward off the final part of the witch's sentence. Moaning, he rubbed his face with his hands and pursed his lips. "I, unfortunately, got that far." Dropping his hands back to the table, he screwed his face up in disgust.

Snorting, the bushy haired witch reclaimed the small journal and slipped it into a pocket in her robes. "Well, apparently it's hereditary." Her gaze drifted to Draco and she chewed her bottom lip in consideration, tipping her head and narrowing her eyes as if mentally comparing him with Reginald. Sighing, she gave her head a shake and reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Also, those cold iron daggers? They belonged to Reginald. He gave them to Raveana as a peace offering. I think you should give them to Draco."

The blond's face brightened immediately and he turned his pale orbs to Harry. "Cold iron daggers? How many?" He purred, already considering the many things that he could do with the weapons.

"You don't really want them, do you?" Harry asked, shrinking against Hermione's side as a possessed look crept into the other wizard's eyes.

"Do you know how much an arrow with a cold iron head is worth? An entire dagger would be worth at least seven times the going price." Already counting his galleons, Draco smiled. "You can have them moved to my personal Gringotts account."

"What about the dragons?" Hermione inquired, changing the topic without a hint of remorse. Her eyes were bright with interest, fingers reaching up to comb through her tangled mass of hair. "Were you right?"

Harry grinned and nodded, glancing across the table at Draco. "They were there, just waiting for Draco to call them home." A small cheer rose from the group, hands coming together in a quick round of applause as they waited for further information. "There were dozens of them, Hermione, breeds I didn't even recognize. And the colours!"

"I'm so glad the Minister of Magic passed that law." Blaise announced, a smirk playing across his features. Lifting his teacup in a toast, he took a small sip and ran his tongue over his lips. "If he hadn't, I don't think we would've ever gotten to see the pair of you kiss." Chuckling as the raven-haired wizard's face flamed, he elbowed Draco roughly.

Swiping at his burning cheeks, the Gryffindor shook his head and groaned in embarrassment. "Those dragons really did a lot for us," he admitted, lips curving upward in a smile as he gazed at the blond sitting across from him. Shrugging his shoulders as Hermione cooed in delight at his seemingly romantic statement, he rose and leaned across the table. Cupping Draco's chin with his right hand, he lifted him gently to his feet and pulled him toward him. "A lot." Harry breathed, pressing a quick kiss to the lips under his. He was about to release the blond when a hand fisted in the front of his robes and hauled him closer.

"They did indeed," Draco whispered, blue eyes gleaming with promise. Licking his lips, he bowed his head and ran his tongue delicately over the raven-haired wizard's bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. Nibbling gently, he stared into glowing green eyes and winked slowly. Placing one last hard bite on Harry's swollen lip, he untangled his fingers from the dark fabric and sank gracefully to his seat. "Remind me to thank them the next time I see them."

XxXxX

The sun had set, leaving Hogwarts lit only by candles and crackling torches. Above the massive castle, stars sparkled brightly. In the distance, the Forbidden Forest was alive with nocturnal animals, the haunting call of a lone wolf proof of this. An owl hurtled past the only occupied window of the Astronomy Tower, its high-pitched call failing to surprise the pair ensconced upon the thick wedge of stone.

"Do you still dream of dragons?" Draco asked softly, cuddling deeper into the arms wrapped around his waist. He inhaled the night air deeply, lifting his gaze to the black sky as he awaited an answer.

Opening his emerald orbs, Harry rubbed his chin against the top of Draco's head and smiled. "Only one," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss atop the pale locks. His eyes drifted closed again, content too simply breath in the smell of the blond and the night.

Sighing in satisfaction, Draco smiled smugly and settled his hands atop Harry's and squeezed. "That's good. Now, about those daggers-"

The End

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it; the end of The Dragons of Raveana. I want to thank everyone who took the time to review and spent their time reading and keeping up with this story. It was a delight to write, I must admit. Anyways, now that it's over, I get to move to another project! That's always a major highlight for me. So, thanks again everyone and I hope to see you around. Good reading and happy writing, everyone. 

Oh, and there will not be a sequel.

Hikari Manganji - I don't think I ever really decided who was the dominant and who was the submissive in this story. One minute it was hinting at a DmHp and the next it was HpDm.  
GryffieGurl - Hopefully there was enough Draco/Harry action in this chapter to make up for the little that was contained in the last few chapters. I also hate moving, but be warned it will be happening in the near future.  
sbkar - lol, yah, I'm having loads of fun. With friends like mine and the world's longest freshwater beach in my backyard, it's hard not too.  
Shinigami - Hope I got all the loose ends. I know many people will still be wondering about the Mage Dragons and their relationship with Harry after everything has happened but that's another story.  
NinjaoftheDarkness - Excellent guess!  
Fiery Phoenix - All of the Death Eaters died. The Killing Curse was amplified by the magic of the Mages to such an extent that the spell almost exploded, forming itself into a mist that killed everything within a certain range.  
fraewyn - I think I got both moments, or at least hinted at them.  
**To the individual who left the signature**: punish bad dads - Voldemort never cast Crucio upon Draco in this story, he cast it upon Lucius. Thus, your remark about Lucius being a shoddy (I try not to swear, I find that it makes me appear less intelligent. Kind of like my brain isn't large enough to find a better word than a derogatory term for something else.) father is wrong. Also, in court, Lucius would have pled duress, and he would have gotten away with it. This is because he was put into a circumstance that he couldn't have easily gotten out of without being injured severely or killed.  
Sure, we all write about Harry taking a Crucio meant for someone else or Draco shoving Harry out of the way and getting slammed with an Avada Kedvra (which he miraculously survives) but that doesn't really happen. I mean, if I have a gun held to my head and someone telling me to cut off my right thumb or yours, guess whose I'm going with?  
hieisdragoness18 - He was also slightly OC but no one said anything, lol.  
Lady Halaia - Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.  
Wolven Spirits - Glad you've enjoyed it!  
misstree - Yep, this is the end.


End file.
